Arranged
by Catharsiss-BridgetteHayden
Summary: The sight of Harry's future husband changes his mind. SLASH, POTENTIALLY MPREG (This started as an AU, one-shot and became something more.)
1. Arranged

This is an AU. It was inspired by a picture (pic fic), which this site will not let me link or show you. The image is called DM  
by chouette-e on deviantart dot com. It's worth seeing.

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Harry stopped in his tracks.

F*ck.

He couldn't close his mouth. His whole family was watching, and he couldn't get one word past his shock. First he had to deal with that, then deal with being embarrassed because he knew better than to allow looks to matter that much. But they did.

The guy was royal, beautiful, and quite possibly every bit as demanding as his assiduous gaze upon Harry implied. Both their families were in attendance, as if everyone wanted a ringside seat and bets were hedged against Harry possessing the ability to reject this one. After a year of rejecting his parent's traditions, in the form of every pureblooded git thinking he's entitled to Harry's rich vein of magic, that his family could throw at him, how did they find this? He could've swore his own mother snickered while the Malfoys judged every twitch in his face. Their expressions dared him to find a flaw in their son.

Harry had practiced all his life to stand up to his family, to say no to any arranged marriage. He did not hold their belief system concerning blood ideologies. He loved them, but had to say no. Until now.

He felt his heart and his life circling the drain. This had to be a spell. They were all against him and Prince Draco Malfoy, had to be their cruelest card. The prince looked like his his genetics were designed to provoke and ensure procreation at all costs. One could not help but find him attractive. The look he returned to Harry said that, not only did he know this, but he was utterly bored with people coming onto him all his life. That's why no one was allowed to get too close. That's why, in the Wizarding world, these royals did not flaunt their true status and were now using their well-kept secret of a son to secure the most potent line of magic still walking the Earth. They'd possibly bred him for exactly that purpose. He was here to honor his "family business" as much as Harry was. Duty over romance. That was the drill.

Only Harry was falling in love. Right there on the spot, in front of everyone.

For once in his life, it might not be so bad to have a pedigree that traced valuable magic to him. Gringotts recorded it as an asset greater than gold, and ever since he could remember, he'd been told that an arranged marriage was inevitable. It wasn't the money that everyone wanted to out live them. It was the magic.

As he drank in Draco's perfection, he steeled himself against the defiance staring back at him. They were going to have problems. This boy might've said yes to his parents, but he was saying no to Harry. That was okay. The guy was going to have to marry someone, right? There was no chance of dating his royal ass casually. Marriage was the only opportunity Harry had to get to know him. It was commit, or nothing at all.

He looked at his mother, who bit her lip knowingly, and barely concealed her smile. He looked back at Draco. It comforted him to know that he could write his own stipulations into the marriage contract. He was sure that he could win Draco over. Lots of arranged marriages outlasted other ones. Love could grow organically, without being forced. In the end, it was just form of mutual respect.

He could build that with this guy. He had to think like that now, because there was no turning back. Draco Malfoy was not leaving his life until he'd given it his damnedest. And even then, he felt sure he could make that impossible. Draco's was the kind of breeding that came with the ability to have children. That's why his parents would've hidden him from common society, protecting their investment.

F*ck it, this marriage was happening. Happiness was the goal, but that wasn't a deal breaker. He has seen the person he would risk it with, and the person he was going to have children with. And Harry was ready to do anything for him. He was willing to melt whatever challenge met him in Draco's stare. And if he couldn't, he'd always have the right share Draco's bed. That alone, was worth agreeing to the marriage.

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Top stories by this writer are in the Unbearable Series.


	2. Prurient Formalities

He didn't bolt. That let everyone know they had his attention. When Harry took the chair offered to him and sat down at the negotiations, everyone sighed in relief. His mother swallowed and said a prayer of thankfulness to whatever influence had her defiant son stopping short and heeling like a domesticated creature. It wasn't so long ago that he'd insisted, "Marriage is such a personal decision, I have to make it myself. That way, if anything goes wrong, I have only myself to blame."

She was proud of his sense of responsibility, but wanted him to know also, that there was no such thing as wrong, when two people were carving a path for themselves. "A marriage is what you make it, Harry. You can love anyone. That decision is less about them than it is about you. They're simply fortunate that they reap the benefit of your affection. You are freer than you think, when it comes to deciding who you love. A contract might seem cold, but it really just simplifies the whole process."

Beside her, her husband James squeezed her hand. They'd been fortunate enough to have a clearer understanding of their duties to their families at very young ages. Once James's future wife was pointed out to him, during their grade school years, he lit up at the idea that someone could just give him another human being. A really pretty girl, no less. It was like an amazing inheritance. He didn't have to go out and earn his fortune, toiling with bitter-sweet relationships and the scars they left, simply to justify some discovered happiness to himself and others. He'd been escorted right to the front of the line. He was grateful to his family for that. And Lily was as sharp as she was beautiful. Instead of stomping her foot about unfairness and the right to choose, she'd given him a chance. They'd latched on to each other all through school. He loved her before he ever liked her, and they both found that to be plenty to base an entire life on.

Their son was different. Harry didn't seem to trust anything put in front of him, not without a thorough examination and assessment of how useful it was to him. He enjoyed people, but saw no need to tie himself to them. His 'been there, done that' attitude was reminiscent of someone determined not to get trapped in obligations built on the values of others. If it didn't please him, he wasn't going to keep it in his life, no matter how much it meant to the ones he loved. At three, when most children obeyed in response to doting affection, he had an uncanny ability to look his parents in the eye and say 'no.' His erratic magic slammed doors and shattered things, but never injured anyone, so his family wasn't worried about the benevolence of his nature, just the vehemence behind it.

"It's like he's already who he's going to be, inside that little body," his mother told the Pediatric Mediwizard examining a diagnostic of Harry's magic. "Like he already has experiences and he knows what he's not going to repeat again."

Juniper studied her wand scans in front of a lit screen the same way muggle doctors studied X-rays. Colorful patterns before her, created readable mappings of the characterizations of Harry's magic. "Well, no child is a blank slate, as romantic as that idea is. We have only to read their magic to see that they come to us filled with wisdom and intention. The birth process wipes their memories, but deep inside, everyone knows who they are."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the birth mark? Mine are on both my wrists, and my mother says it's a reminder that I don't want to injure myself the way I did before. A kind way of saying, 'don't slash your wrists over idiot men ever again.' She says I let them tear me in two, giving one vein to each. I suppose that's why I found it so easy to be with a husband chosen for me this time. Is Harry's magic like that too?"

"Harry's birthmark is significant to his magic. I've never seen a lightning shaped birthmark, but it stands to reason that the mark is a reminder to him just as yours is a private reminder to you. Every time he looks in the mirror, there's something he wants himself to never forget. Your mother uses old magic without all the modern political correctness to filter it. I wouldn't doubt if she already knows the answer to your question."

"She just says, 'Let him be. He's been through enough,' but she won't say what. Doesn't his scan tell you anything unusual about his magic?"

"Everything about it is unusual. But that's because the Potter and Evans strains of blood have combined genetic markers and basically made choices that were not available until you two created a child together. Just because we see it in our scans, doesn't mean that we can interpret everything down to its last, most specific meaning. Magic evolves. It's as the Goblin records of your ancestry show, the oldest known line of magic had the greatest potential of reappearing in your son. Somewhat recessive in you, Harry's DNA posed the right combination to unlock it. His birthmark could represent that very fact. In any case, his scans show all kinds of variances that we don't fully understand, but no two magical people are alike. I see nothing concerning."

Lily nodded. "Just be glad he's healthy, I guess. Just be glad he's a sweetheart and not the terror some souls are dealt."

"Children are very intuitive. I'll bet, once he's old enough and has the vocabulary, if you ask him, he'll tell you more about his birthmark than anyone can."

Lily smiled at that. Something about Juniper's words rang true. "Thank you, I bet you're right."

As he grew, whenever the subject of his lightning shaped birth mark stood prominent in her mind, she'd stroke his hair aside to uncover its hidden place above his eyebrow. She always steadied herself, as if really asking if she wanted to know. If her own birthmarks linked her to an unpleasant past, was it fair to ask a child to remember what his was? Even a magical child, who's green eyes danced with secrets and invitation.

She realized eventually that when she looked into him and held her questions back, he connected with her and his unspoken reply was a stream of images and sensations that fed her curiosity, whether he realized it or not. Flashes of green made her rethink her desire to know. Unnatural pulses in her heart scared her. She felt the cardiac muscle stumble off rhythm, grasped her chest, and decided that people get fresh starts for a reason. Memories are wiped clear for a very good reason. No point dredging up things that couldn't be undone.

Now at twenty-two, Harry and she still shared that connection. Anything she wanted to know, his psyche emitted volumes of signals that her mind turned into meaning. Her ability to interpret what came to her was subject to error, but after twenty-two years, she always got the core of the matter right. And she knew just how much her Harry was intrigued by this new suitor.

James, standing on the outside of this connection, had always been fond of warning her that their son was growing up and it would be difficult for her to let go. "You have to give him room. Some would say your involvement is excessive, even for a mother."

She'd long ago adapted to the cruel streak in his sense of humor, and knew that he was joking. No words could get a rile out of her faster than the insinuation that she was unhealthily attached to her child. She'd whirl, sending her red hair on flight, pulling her shoulders back and lowering her pitch exactly when most women would raise theirs. "He came through me. You have no idea what that's like. He's my one purpose and I'm not going to fail."

They both knew James's comment was meant to do nothing more than heat up the blood in her cheeks and perhaps lead to apologies in their bedroom. But she took the opportunity to tell him something as if she's never told him before, even though she's said it more times than it was rational to say. And still, she said it as if she could not say it enough, because he was incapable of hearing what she truly meant.

"I feel like I can't take anything for granted with him. He's too special. We have a connection and I know I came into this world to make sure his life thrives. You know I love you, but once I used my body to let him come into this world, I became responsible in a way that you didn't. If you ever wanted to leave us, you could. But I couldn't. I feel like it's greater than our magic, like it's what magic is for. He's a really great soul and I'm like a centurion. I have a mission. There's no room for failure. I have a job to do, to see that he reaches his full purpose. If people want to make fun of me for being too close to my son for that, then all of you can go to hell."

"Hon, you're not being graded on this, and you're not the only mum who thinks her kid is the heavens and the stars."

"No, the urgency over this, feels like I can fail. Like I did fail, and this is another chance. My last chance. When I think of something going wrong, or losing him, I feel like I was robbed of this chance to give him everything he needs to become a happy, well-adjusted person in this world. I feel like that was ripped from me, right out of my chest." Her bony fist beat against her breastplate.

"I know, that's irrational but that's how it feels. And now the only thing I want in life is to see him grown, with a family of his own. That's how I'll know the curse is broken, because that's what it feels like. I can't rest until I'm holding the grandchild that he gives me. That's when this feeling will go away. I know it."

James knew there was no point in trying to reason with her. When it came to protecting their babies, a mother's instincts erred on the side of deadly rather than rationale. Secretly, her readiness to drop all demure refinement and fight if she had to, stirred excitement as well as pride. Her temperament was so confident and serene most of the time, that displays of anger or any raw emotion, was equal parts thrilling and awe-inspiring. Aside from the bedroom, it was the only time he got to see her whole body worked into a frenzy befitting her provocative power as a witch.

Their son had not only taken a seat among those deciding his right to court the Malfoy heir, but had, with perfect etiquette, commanded a grace that came out of no where, that granted him permission to rectify his choice in dress, return to his room and to spell any appropriate changes he felt necessary. He'd shown up in jeans the first time, and compromised formality by wearing a casual blazer. He'd taken one look at Draco Malfoy, froze in paralysis, then roused from it to backtrack his way into a finer suit of clothes.

His parents knew that he would, left on his own, present a lackluster image, which they could do nothing about. They'd discussed letting the Malfoys see what they were really getting. No point in hiding who Harry was behind glamour. Harry's insistence on a "regular Joe" appearance had them poised to argue the point that his quality lay in his person, not his clothing. They knew the Malfoys, conservatively dressed to the height of their wealth, would see his lack of refinement as a strike against them. But Harry's magic was far older, and far more potent than theirs. They would not be intimidated into thinking their family did not bring as much to the table as the Malfoys, if not more.

To everyone's shock, Harry's apology had sounded sincere. He'd turned to the head of the Malfoy family, where his supplication was the most appropriate. "My apologies, Sir. I expected just another applicant I'd have to turn away. There's no point in going through formalities and wasting everyone's time. It's my personal policy to let people know up front what my answer is, instead of stringing things along. If you'll excuse me for making you wait, I would like to beg ten minutes to match my clothing to the quality of this day, and to your company." His eyes shifted to Draco, who revealed nothing.

"I had no idea your son would be so exceptional. I want to put my best foot forward when it comes to anyone I'm to seriously consider for marriage."

Try as he might, he was unable to read what stirred behind Draco's perfect, unsmiling mask. "Until today, that has never been a reality."

Lucius Malfoy looked down his elegant nose at Harry. "If you must."

Lucius wasn't going to go out of his way to put Harry at ease. The young man's lack of forethought was a strike against him, and the frost in his tone let everyone know it. Contempt for one's traditions was hardly a way to start an arranged relationship.

His tone, Lily, calculated, held back an admission that he might've been impressed at Harry's back peddle from the obvious shock of being presented with his son. But Mr. Malfoy wasn't going to reveal anything until Harry exhibited the proper respect and quality of behavior that his Blood-Pedigree, certified within the archives of Gringotts, said that he possessed.

The glacier grey in Mr. Malfoy's stare warned Harry, 'Don't blow it. My son is worth all the ceremony and pomp that your generation spits on. This whole affair is about magic. This meeting is but one note of preparation in a very elaborate spell. Show me that you have the intelligence to comprehend that, and you shall win my son. Allow your dense whims to overthrow your values, and this will be the last you see of him. We're not playing games, Mr. Potter. This world has someone fit for my son and we will move on.'

Harry saw where the frost came from in Draco's clear-sky eyes. Apparently, the chill was a first defense mechanism. It worked.

He had changed and returned as quickly as possible. His spells included extra cleansing and hygiene choices, layered with subtle cologne blends, and polished in a suit of black linen, pale blue shirt, satin tie, and a fresh trim to his two-week old hair cut.

While his suit was not as expensive as Draco's fine Italian ensemble, its cut flattered Harry's build and charmed the eyes. His family had no where near the money the Malfoys had, and so kept their clothes practical. His father had come into a couple of significant inheritances alongside his jewelry business and did quite well for his family. James Potter didn't just make jewelry, he customized spells and charms that activated upon being worn. The jewelry could be as whimsical as diet mood rings that abated cravings, medical crystals that worked in conjunction with prescription potions, to wedding rings that ensured fidelity. Financially, the Potters were well off, but it was always the lore of the Potter name that seemed to open doors for them and extended their credit. If money was the bane of muggle existence, then magic was the double-edged sword that gave wizards their wholeness, while at the same time inspiring fears of great loss. Once you have it, you fear to lose it.

Harry had no designs to join the family business, but he did enjoy learning the craftsmanship alongside his passion for quidditch. He even studied abroad for his certification in cutting and setting. As long as he wasn't pressured by accounting and marketing details, he found it easy to make his own money online, selling astrologically designed bracelets that boosted the wearers proficiency at any skill by fifty percent. He couldn't guarantee that everyone would experience that exact percentage boost, but he had documentation that some did. Crystal worshiping muggles were his biggest customers, from athletes to writers. Apparently, there was a huge niche to fill in inspiring people to their dreams. He liked to think of himself as specializing in ways for people to tap their own power. When you have so much magic, and others seem to have none, you can't stand it.

His low-key business was his way of making sure people found their magic, even if they were muggles or squibs. And because the transactions were automated, that left him the freedom to enjoy a position with the professional quidditch team, the Sky Razors, as one of their reserve players. He didn't have to maintain any high profile to protect his place on the team, simply keep his skills sharp and show up when they needed him. Between his bracelets and quidditch, his magic cycled through each in a way that kept his energy in balance. It was a good life, and the idea of opening it up to another, had never been tempting until now.

He liked the convenience of living at home and not having to think about things like grocery shopping or cooking. His finances allowed him to hold his head high while he reaped the benefits of regularly laundered clothes, consistent meals, and all the privileges of bachelorhood. When he dated, or needed privacy, he used his parent's guest house. Putting his magic into his bracelets, from sketch to clasp, fed his desire to see the looks of awe and appreciation in others faces when they felt it. It was a tangible magic. One his father warned him not to use excessively.

"You can put everything you've got into a piece, but if the wearer's natural circuits are closed or clogged, the magic will affect them adversely. Cultivate the best spells that line your bracelets up with the right person for them," was his advise. Though he had never succeeded, in his heart, Harry felt that it should've been possible to develop prosthetic jewelry, and had even worked out the science behind why and how it could work. Some of his favorite fantasies were of seeing gold ankle cuffs, emitting a frequency that nerve endings detected, and enabling paraplegics to walk.

He did have guilty pleasures of envisioning himself winning a Nobel Prize, but that was only because he knew that, as modest as his bracelets were, his intentions were great. He didn't need for any fantasy to become real, to enjoy what he did. Besides, all of it felt like he was taking baby steps to something much greater, and this was just one tiny segment that needed to be ironed out. If it was easier for him to live at home right now, then so be it. It let him think and create with his magic the way he needed to. It was pure freedom and he couldn't have planned it better if he'd scripted it.

The sight of Draco brought all of that to a halt. Whatever music had been playing, whatever waltz Harry had been dancing his way through life to, screeched to a violent stop, wrecking what had only a moment ago been the sound of delicious freedom.

When Harry looked at Draco, he knew that he was never going to be free again. And the worst thing was, that felt like the best thing ever.

Polishing his appearance, was all done with an arsenal of last-minute spells that had him nervous that his reflection now showed a person trying way too hard. He wondered if he looked desperate. But this is how he looked when others, who were not his mother, went on and on about how handsome he was. This was how he looked when women asked him for his phone number in coffee houses, and when guys flailed next to him on the dance floor before making their offer to buy him a drink seem spontaneous and casual, and not hot for him at all. He wasn't a social animal, but he did seek people and festive company when he could do no more with his work or his athletic prowess.

He knew that he was good looking, people had always assured him of that, he just didn't care. But now that he'd seen Draco, he decided to push his strengths to the front. Prince Draco Malfoy was going to be his husband. Now was not the time to be shy. A whiff of insecurity over Draco's Royal status, had him shoving it back down. Even the Malfoys didn't use their titles, and had requested that they not be addressed or curtsied to, in ways that were out of fashion. In a political climate where Aristocratic Peerage was far from popular, no one wanted reminders of the things one's ancestors did to gain those titles. In an age of DNA investigation, no one wanted their rights, deeds, and lands, contested. If no one sees your shiny status, no one can attack it. That much of the Malfoy strategy was clear. That had to have been the tactic taken with their shiny son. Oh, they weren't going to pass up the opportunity to let anyone know how wealthy they were. But their lips were sealed on the history behind it. A few umbrella corporations and presto, it would appear to the world as if you're a self-made wizard from a long line of self-made wizards.

There was something called the Rift. It was said to be a geographical place that represented where the histories of magical people and non-magical, went their separate ways. All wizards knew that those worlds never really separated, but the wizarding one more or less developed ways of hiding itself as everyone else around them evolved. In that nebulous lore, filled with foreboding landscapes and lawless magic, Kingdoms still existed. They rose out of mist-covered battlefields, where wars were fought, not with armies, but with sorcery. And Royalty still meant something. It wouldn't have surprised Harry if Lucius Malfoy sat so erect and righteous in his self-appointed nobility, because his title crossed boundaries within that world. Why he couldn't just find a match for his son in a place where kingdoms were more common than outside of the Rift, Harry didn't know. But it must've had something to do with greed for magic.

Harry's father had told him long ago, "Our family cut off ties with the old ways for a reason. We like peace. We like laws that try to protect everyone, whether they have magic or not. The stories from my family warn never to go looking for the Rift. It takes a different breed of wizard to tolerate that way of life. We belong here now. Grandad's stories say don't look back. Never look back. We got out with our magic and that's more important than maintaining ties with a culture unwilling to change and grow."

Harry had no interest in dredging up any connections to long lost worlds. He would have to find out what strings were attached to the betrothal. Surely the Malfoys would not be here if his parents hadn't approved of whatever background they'd investigated. If Mr. Malfoy had ties to the Rift, it couldn't be anything as dark as family stories implied. His Dad wasn't going to show him something like Draco, without it being a safe and secure option for marriage. If he was going to play the game, he had to trust his parents on this. That's what Lucius's glare had challenged him to do. 'Are you in, Mr. Potter? Do you wish to play your part or don't you? You cannot win this prize until you join us properly.'

And what a fucking prize!

Draco's presence, deterring silence and all, only promised more intrigue. Harry had met some shallow, empty people in his time, and he knew he ran the risk of marrying the ultimate facade. But that's not what Draco's energy said. That's not what his magic radiated. There was something worth discovering beneath that guy's marble exterior. What Harry sensed of his magic, was like a geode filled with crystal formations, undetectable with the naked eye, but when opened, filled with every light-splitting facet of magic possible. Of course Lucius Malfoy would search far and wide for an equivalent match. He might even leave his kingdom to follow the trails of the oldest bloodlines. Of course he would shroud his true line of work in secrecy, in a muggle world, and he would test Harry's weaknesses before signing him into the family.

It doesn't matter, Mr. Malfoy. I'm still going to nail your son.

That thought gripped his gut and had him bracing himself through the idea of it. He tried to be more respectful but it just kept hitting him until he spoke it out loud. "Oh my god. I'm going to marry that guy. I'm going to sleep with him. This is real."

His entire life had either jumped course or turned onto a key road. Either way, his appearance was a big deal. Mr. Malfoy was going to be his father-in-law. They might be royals, but Harry's family had the magic they wanted. Harry knew he didn't have to feel inferior to the Malfoys in any way, just because his family worked. In fact, his marriage would do better and be far stronger if he got rid of feelings like that and embraced his sense of entitlement. Don't fear the monster. Meet it head on.

If his magic could attract something as intriguing as Draco Malfoy across its path, then he would hold his head high and claim the prize the Universe was offering him. He had no idea what to do with a husband, but that guy sitting as beautiful as anything he'd ever seen crafted, was his opportunity to find out. A rare bird, frostbitten, and indifferent. Arctic, with silver ice in his hair and blue glacier caves in his stare, he inspired a creative flame in Harry's magic. Harry warmed, forging his intention to melt Draco's frozen, unrelenting landscape.

He returned to the formal meeting room and took the seat waiting for him beside his parents. He tried to look at Draco without it seeming aggressive, while simultaneously avoiding his mother's smirk. She knew she'd been right, there was no point in giving her more fuel. In fact, he was still fairly embarrassed at how obvious his sudden interest must seem, but to hell with it. There was only one person in this room who's opinion really mattered right now, and he had to get past Lucius Malfoy to get to it.

He was new at this whole formal thing, but he remembered something about the rules his parents had tried to drill into him. 'These people will look for old etiquette, the old language of magic. It will put them at ease to see that you speak it. So even the meeting will be a ritual. If you're serious about it, you will use the red silk napkin. If you remain in need of convincing, you will use the white one. You're allowed to sip your tea when you hear something in the offer that appeals to you. Draco will do the same. If you hear a detail that you're not keen on, don't touch your cup. That will signal to us where to push and where to ease up in our negotiations. Everything presented, is an offer to go to the next step. If Draco does not touch either of his napkins, he is not interested in continuing further. If you let this be enough communication between you, while the elders set the most basic terms, you two may write your own stipulations into the marriage contract once the courtship is legally agreed upon.'

When he took his seat, he stated his full name, took the red napkin folded at an angle by his saucer, and placed it to the right of his cup. His parents didn't keep house elves, but had hired a caterer to manage the timing of tea and desserts between signatures. The witch pouring Harry's tea was a professional who kept her eyes forward and their cups steaming. He was glad he knew spells to cool hot things, considering how prominent all the signals would be over the next two hours or so.

There were seven formal stages, depending on the structure chosen. Both families had agreed on a foundation of old magic and modern ethics. The parents would define courtship procedures and everyone would agree upon them. Parents would set rules of conduct, which could be strict or very lenient, and write in the official date that marked them as engaged. They would insist that the boys adhere to ritual every step of the way, but let them adjust in phases. Give them a chance to come to agreement on their own terms.

If that didn't work, the ceremony of each formal meeting would work its own spell. The women had already exchanged follicles of their sons' hair and neither boy was any wiser that it floated at the bottom of tea cups waiting for them. Afterwords, the cups would be retrieved and Lucius would feign a five minute distraction as he and James completed a brief fire ceremony in which their children's bond was offered to their ancestors to watch over and bless with certain union.

Once Harry spoke his full name to the group and invoked his magic to come to the foreground of their intentions by moving his napkin, Lucius looked to James Potter, who delivered a formal speech of welcome and a recital of what they were all there for. The ritual had begun. Lucius led the others in sipping his tea, as was the customary response of acceptance to the Potter's request to allow the courtship of their sons. When all six drank, the act completed a circuit that identified the roles and wishes of all present at the table. The air thickened as unseen specters and ancestors entered to bear witness. In adjoining rooms, James's mother, her two sisters, and Lily's mother and uncle entertained themselves as they waited for the outcome.

For Lucius, it was all contingent on whether Harry Potter exhibited the value his documented pedigree promised. The Potters were not purebloods, but the most potent strains of magic could be traced to James Potter's forebears, at least one of which connected him to Lucius's wife, Narcissa. Her maiden name, Black, could also be found in the archives of Potter's ancestral vaults. The match between their children was already ordained in greater worlds. The Potters had only to please Lucius's discerning eye, to make it so in this one.

Lucius knew he had to relinquish his hold on his son's incalculable worth and spotless qualities eventually. As loyal to his family as he was, Draco was showing signs of restlessness. Behind the artistry of boyish looks, manhood was beginning to feel a little cramped and his clipped responses of late were his way of showing it. He was growing tired of the game, Lucius knew. No matter how pretty Draco was, he was still more man than child and organizing his life around an arranged marriage was no where near the satisfaction other men were enjoying at his age. He felt it. He resented it, but dutifully kept silent on the subject as the perfect display of trust in his father's judgment.

Lucius glanced at Draco and met with poised resolve. Just as he'd been taught, Draco kept his expression polite enough to deter criticism, but cool enough to discourage conversation. Lucius had noticed subtle changes when Harry arrived, but Draco hid them before he could be called upon it.

He's obedient and wise, Lucius reasoned, at the thought of his son's silence. But a deeper voice admitted that he had never encouraged Draco to attune to emotions, or even to open up to him. 'You don't know that his silence has anything to do with obedience,' that deeper voice said. 'You look at him and his eyes are as accusing as they are a perfect imitation of your judgment. You do not ask his opinion, for fear of what he will say. No father has the right to imprison his son to keep their family magic intact.'

Harry wasn't the only one refusing suitors over the last three years. If Draco's parents didn't find a match for him soon, they would loose him to the folly of finding no one to fit their standards. At twenty-two, their selectiveness had already, easily, become a source of torment.

Narcissa had been the first to comment after a tense moment had Draco turning on his heels to keep from disrespecting the both of them. They had just announced that he would be meeting the next potential suitor on the list. Weary to the point of illness, he couldn't hide his anger. They saw it flash, bone hard in his mild features.

Narcissa had placed thin hands on her husband's shoulders afterwords. "Perhaps this has gone on too long. He's not going to choose. He's not happy with any of them. It's time to admit that we don't know what's best for him. Can't you see how unhappy he is?"

He'd grasped her wrists with gentleness. "Diligence now, pleasure later. He'll thank us when he realizes that he can paint any landscape, any fulfillment, on the canvas of his marriage. You know exactly what our contract was based upon. If he doesn't marry correctly and produce a child, our magic as well as our holdings deteriorate. That goes for every relative who shares our heritage. We all give our children in this way, or we lose the right to call ourselves wizards. Fortunes can be rebuilt, but there's not a magical depository on this earth from which we can mine all that we've risen to become through our blood practices. We've raised Draco to understand that. He accepts it."

"I know, and I agree. But he's so young. He needs to date. You should let him see someone. You should let him engage in natural acts. A girlfriend, a boyfriend, as long as their records meet with our approval. Either way, we must be realistic. We're making him feel like he can't grow up. Let him engage in activity that is healthy, that would embarrass him to get caught in. We did. Let's give him permission to choose. He'll have to marry this Harry Potter but he can still choose his real lovers. Not everyone can be as lucky as you and I."

A loud breath, louder than he intended, betrayed his impatience. "Luck had nothing to do with it. We were paired before our parents ever met. We can't compromise him like that. I want to see him well adjusted to the marriage just as much as you do, but you know the contract. If I were to make such choices available to him, it would defeat the entire purpose of engineering his magic to allow his body to carry children. We made that decision before he was born. We were very fortunate to find specialists who could not only help us conceive our own child, but make sure he was born with the best qualities inherent in both of us.

Narcissa had let go of him, tired of hearing what she already knew.

"They warned us that you would never be able to carry another child, so we secured that advantage the best way we knew how. Our line must continue. Our magic must continue. Draco's body will make sure that he conceives with the first man he lies with. We might be able to get beautiful, averagely magical children from any powerful witch he impregnates, but our chances for the strongest, comes from him being able to carry a powerful wizard's child. Those doctors only saw him with one opportunity to produce a single offspring, just as they did with you. I can't have dating and illicit affairs contaminating our results."

Instead of abating, Narcissa tried harder. "And he resents it so. He won't open up to me, but I see it. We could have his encounters chaperoned. We could see that certain acts are allowed and others avoided. One does not have to commit to intercourse to achieve the same ends. Girls can think of ways around pregnancy. He can be a normal young man without jeopardizing anything."

Lucius retaliated. "What female would you trust to be that close to our son and not produce an unwanted heir with her advantage? These are witches, who know their way around the potency of a man's sperm, not some muggle debutantes waiting for one perfect day of wedding bliss to make them complete. Draco's essence is not to be taken for granted or allowed to escape him until he's done his duty to our family. And even then, he'd be wise to use his husband for such relief instead of wasting himself on the risk of illegitimate children. Better he accepts his constraints now than try to outrun them later."

Now, at the head of the table, James Potter read both Harry's and Draco's introductory biographies out loud. Harry cringed. Aside from relevant information pertaining to birthplace and schooling, Harry's read like a tacky dating profile. "In his free time Harry enjoys customizing therapeutic jewelry and playing professional quidditch."

When it came to Draco's profile, James let everyone know that Draco's education consisted of private tutors and Swiss boarding schools, with a particular emphasis on Music Theory and Classical Piano. Draco played twelve instruments. Apparently, he was a virtuoso who had auditioned his way into Conservatoire de Musique, in Geneva Switzerland, and intended to pursue his Masters in America, at Julliard in New York. He'd won awards for developing a music program that taught blind children how to play piano.

Learning this, along with Harry's deep appreciation for music and art, did make Harry feel small. His attendance at a Scotland Boarding school had been all the academic structure Harry could take. While he loved learning magic, he didn't miss the rigorous demands on his time and energy and hadn't given a thought to attending college. When he wanted to learn a new skill, he simply paid for individual classes or workshops and went at it at his own pace.

By the time his father stopped reading Draco's accomplishments and awards, Harry was a little starstruck. He looked at Draco, who now seemed just as lovely on the inside as he appeared on the outside.

Next, assets that came with the marriage, were presented by each head of family. If Harry married Draco, the title of Prince would be bestowed and adapted into all documentation identifying him. In Wizarding culture, it was one that had to be taken seriously. It came with Trusts, lands, gold, and other forms of wealth, but Lucius was quick to point out that public usage of the title was frowned upon in the modern world and that it would be considered poor taste to use the title as a crutch. And should he and Draco proceed beyond courtship to an actual marriage, only a portion of the holdings transferred to Harry. The rest would not, until the two produced their most binding pledge to one another and to both families. A child.

"We have to know that your son can sire a child. Likewise, we can produce medical documentation that Draco has the capacity to bear one."

Harry purposely kept his eyes on his tea. That sounded oddly to him like a request for medical testing. Did Mr. Malfoy just say he was going to have to wank in a cup? He shushed himself so that he could hear exactly what was being said about Draco's side of it.

"My son is a perfectly formed male. He could very well sire a child himself, but the strain of magic we're seeking, passes from the membrane that is formed when a wizard's body internalizes the seed of another."

Harry was proud of himself for not making a face and gagging, although he did close his eyes against Mr. Malfoy's bluntness. He didn't have the courage to see what Draco's face was doing. While he understood and respected the mechanics of male-birthology, the words being spoken in relation to what was expected of him, were still embarrassing.

"As you are an old family, you must know that this is a genetic trait deliberately cultivated and sought to allow wizards incumbent combinations of their magic. Latent, internal structures are triggered toward activation and a wizard's body then creates an environment in which childbirth is possible. When not pregnant, it returns to its normal male state. If Harry wishes to court my son, he will have to agree to testing that validates his qualifications."

In the resounding silence, James Potter cleared his throat. "We are aware of Draco's rare qualities and we agree that this is a desirable attribute to pass on to our grandchildren." He gave a calculated pause, during which everything got strangely quiet. Too quiet. Harry looked up. He saw them looking back, and then remembered to pick up his tea and drink from it. All too aware of his slowness being misinterpreted, he gulped to compensate and it sounded like loud, uncouth slurps against the silence.

He sat the cup down. His peripheral twitched to catch Draco rolling his eyes. Cheeks heated, he couldn't know if it was because of his clumsiness, his lack of sophistication with napkin and tea codes, or if Draco thought he was some kind of phobic snob when it came to men having babies. The idea was still a hostile one in cultures that knew nothing of magic, so wizards kept it to themselves. Muggles prided themselves on technology but failed to give up prejudices that would allow them to conquer equality among genders and their fertility issues. Just because he'd grown up with a foothold in the muggle world, didn't mean he was like that.

He tried to let his father know that he appreciated being asked if he was okay with it. That was part of the gusto behind the slurping. He would have to be sure to let Draco know that he was mature enough to handle it.

When James brought his hands together loudly, Harry jumped. He wasn't the only one and he saw his father take delight in waking them all up. James lifted a parchment that had begun to glow orange. He waved his wand over it and the parchment's color returned to normal. He unfolded it and read, "I am legally required to say this. Harry James Potter, you have reached the third tier to your formal betrothal. Gringotts underwriters record your votes at a ninety-five percent approval of all that you've heard. Are you still in favor of matrimony to Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy?"

As he'd learned to do on cue over the last two hours, Harry sipped his tea in response.

"You may answer with a spoken word for this, Harry."

"Oh, yes then. Yes."

"Would you like to continue these proceedings?"

"Yes." His nod was certain. His father winked at him and turned to Draco.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, Gringotts puts your vote at forty-one percent approval of all that you've heard. It looks like you are not convinced. However, you too have reached the third tier to your formal betrothal. Would you like to rescind your application at this point or are you willing to allow Harry the opportunity to persuade you further?"

It was no surprise to anyone when Draco looked at his father before answering. "No. I'll continue."

"In spite of your lack of enthusiasm, are you still in favor of matrimony, with all that you've heard discussed so far, to my son, Harry James Potter?"

Draco's face went grimacing. It was clear to Harry that he did not appreciate Jame's liberties with his words, but didn't want to risk any penalty by saying so. Not yet anyway. "Yes," he said tightly.

Harry was torn between relief and seeing that his father had clearly upset Draco by calling him out in front of everyone. Maybe it wasn't easy seeing your son treated as though he wasn't good enough, no matter how fair you tried to be. With another wave of his wand, Draco's written answer burned itself into the parchment before it glowed orange again and faded from the surface of the table.

James told them, "There, that wasn't too bad. There were no outbursts, no rejections, you boys behaved yourselves while we discussed your Certificates of Intentions and Legal Mediation of Assets. For that, you are now granted speaking privileges should you want to comment on any of the details set forth by us, your parents and Elders."

He expounded, "From here, we move on to Demands and Terms, discussing Courtship Proper, then the wedding. But before we move on, it is customary to reward your patience with a twenty-minute interval of monitored conference between you. You will be granted a private audience with one another, without our supervision, simply to assist in your acquaintance. However, it will not be entirely private. The Malfoys have provided house elves to mediate the appropriateness of your behavior while we leave you alone together. Even if you reject the idea of marriage at this point, you are both bound by the applications that you signed to honor a chaste system of checks and balances until your wedding night. That involves wards, charms, chastity barriers, you name it. You are not engaged at this point, simply qualifying for that outcome."

The two could hardly believe it when their parents got up from the table and left them with the room to themselves. Draco was the first to stand, and Harry understood why. His long legs must've needed stretching. He turned his back to Harry, pulled at the base of his spine and walked to the far end of the room where floor-to-ceiling windows flattered his vertical shape among them. The windows overlooked the Potter's modest garden, but since everything was in bloom, thanks to his mother's magic, Draco's slender build was cast in the most favorable botanical background imaginable. Harry smiled at the thought of having Draco live here, coming and going and sharing this house with him.

His own ass had fallen asleep and he took the opportunity to stretch and massage the circulation back into it. It felt only natural to join Draco by the windows, which were lightly tinted and still let in sheets of rays that fell across Draco's face and shoulders in delicious ways. In shadow, Draco's hair was pale gold. In direct sunlight, it was the color of clouds. Of Angel wings. Harry dared to approach as close as he could without startling Draco. Twenty minutes wasn't very long and he knew he'd regret not taking full advantage of the moment. He fixed his mouth to comment on being honored to have Draco consider him for marriage. Draco spoke first.

"I'll marry you, but I won't have a kid until I'm ready. And the marriage will be in legal form only. Name only. I have someone in my life. He's everything to me, and I'm not giving him up."

That was a blow, and it took Harry a moment to pick himself up from it. All he could ask was, "You don't plan on being faithful to me?"

"I'm telling you so that you'll know what you're getting up front. Just as you said to my father. My life is very much established and it does not begin with meeting you. If our parents want an arrangement, they'll just have to be realists about it. If not, I'll never marry anyone."

Harry took the pain in his chest for disappointment and tried to think his way clear of it. "But you'd lose a significant portion of your magic. And your money. Your wealth is tied to it."

"I don't care. I've spent my life proving that I can take care of myself should they play the disinheritance card. They need me more than I need them."

"Don't you love them?" He meant to use the word 'honor' but what he really felt crept in.

"Of course I do. But love doesn't fix this kind of thing. It only makes it worse. There's no good in asking someone to love and honor someone they don't. They're asking too much of me and they know it."

"Is it asking too much to give me a chance?"

"What do you think I'm doing here? I showed up. I'm disclosing information that lets you make a very informed decision."

"You're pushing me away. That's why you're telling me the harshest information imaginable."

Draco snickered. "You think that's the worst I can do? Look, I have someone that I'm already faithful to. He accepts that I'm willing to marry for my family and coexist in that capacity with him. I'm doing you a favor by telling you. We've been together three years. I have no intention of dumping him."

Harry leapt to have his say. "I plan on being faithful to you."

Draco paused, disarmed. Doubt appeared instead of a proper response.

Harry was sure of those words, but he was still figuring out the next as he spoke them. "I could write a tolerance clause into our contract that would let you take a lover without violating our marriage. I could give you permission."

Tentatively, "You'd do that?"

"No. You and I will never have a chance of being happy as along as Mr. Third is around. I've heard of three-party arrangements, but I want to be secure with my primary spouse before I wrap my head around another one. You and I need years to become accustomed to one another. We need to build trust. I'm sorry, but I can't let you keep him."

Scathing now. "Let me? You have no dominance over me. All I have to do is walk out of here."

"I'm not trying to control you or assert my dominance. Not over you, at any rate. My competition perhaps, but not you. You've been honest with me. I like that. Maybe you're trying to protect me, maybe you're not. Either way, I've made up my mind to marry for my own reasons. Are you sexually active with this man?"

"That's none of your business."  
Harry could've argued the point, but said instead, "I'll take that as a yes. Three years is a long time to abstain."

"And yet people do."

Harry stepped closer. When sirens didn't alarm and none of the contract security appeared in the form of elves or barrier charms, he stepped into Draco's personal space. Draco leaned back. Harry suspected chastity alarms were activated by the breech of physical contact, so he was careful to leave an inch between them. Draco tried to hold his ground, but expressed tight-lipped annoyance at whatever Harry was doing.

Harry was testing Draco. He felt, with the extension of his own body emanation, for Draco's sphere of influence. Everyone has one, extending at least six feet from their body, depending on emotional factors. A lot further if they practiced deliberate use of it. His bracelets worked with that kind of energy. With Draco, he felt it in the others body heat. He tried to get a hint of the warmth itself, instead of Draco's light aftershave. Blushing, but defensive, flushing but responsive, Draco stubbornly waited for Harry to explain himself. Those three seconds were enough for Harry to inhale his scent and to memorize what the perspiration evaporating off of Draco's body told him. It was a test of sexual response. He backed away.

"Your body knows what sexual indulgence feels like. It's accustomed to it. You have some experience. Virgins tremble when they're this close to someone who wants them. You haven't been completely honest."

Draco shoved him away. "I've been more honest than you deserve."

The act of touching, caused an elf to appear. Harry took another step back as the elf inserted himself between the two. The little creature wore a smock of dark blue, said nothing, and set about activating several layers of barrier charms. It held up two fingers, eyeing both boys with the faintest of judgment before popping back to its station and out of sight.

"See what you've done?" Draco huffed. "This is a penalty, now we have to tack on an extra meeting to remove this mark against us. My father's going to question me to no end. They trusted us."

"They still trust us. The elf has to tell them what kind of infringement it was. I got too close, you did your duty."

"You better hope my father sees it that way."

"Your father thinks you're a virgin."

"I told you, I have someone very special in my life. Infer what you will."

"And I told you, as open as I am to your past, I'm not willing to share you. My intention is to win your affections, not force them. But I can't do that if you're too busy running back and forth to him. Give me two years to prove myself to be a husband of equal or greater quality than he is. I will not grant extramarital activity of any kind. Use me for your needs. I won't even exert my rights to your bed unless I'm invited. But marry me with the full commitment that your parents intend. Be faithful. This marriage needs to get off on the best start possible."

Draco appeared to recover from Harry's infringement. He straightened. When he did, the invisible barrier around him pushed into Harry, forcing him another step back. "I've given my answer. I have someone else."

"And I've given you mine. Do your parents know that there's someone else, and you're still willing to go through with it if you get to keep him?"

"They don't care. They don't take anything I want seriously. Go ahead, tell them. I'll just walk out that much faster."

Before Harry could reply, his father stuck his head inside. "I'm afraid time is up, gentlemen." He cracked a mirth filled smile. "Judging by the tension in the room, I'm going to say that you two know each other quite a bit better than you did twenty minutes ago."

When no one laughed, he seemed to find that even funnier. Shaking his head, he entered the room and brought the rest of the party with him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. One day, you'll see how funny this is. Your Gringotts' compatibility scores, by blood, put you in the high seven hundreds, yet your cooperation scores have a disparage of fifty-four percent."

Lucius's head jerked in his direction. "Sir, you are not to share that information with them until the end of their courtship."

"Oops," James chuckled. "Look how tense they are. Is that fair to them? My son will only do this once, I want it to be a day he enjoys looking back on. If you marry into this family, you marry my sense of humor."

Lucius bit back his complaint with that, but puffiness in his expression spoke his true feelings. "As long as your son exhibits the qualities that your documents promise, you may joke your way through these proceedings. Now that they've had their twenty minutes of private conversation, shall we find out if they still wish to court their way to a proper engagement?"

All eyes turned to Harry and Draco.

"I do," Harry was quick to affirm, leaving Draco to deal with his trailing hesitation.

Draco hardened his resolve. "I'm willing."

Harry understood. Draco meant to sustain the illusion of his willingness until Harry denied him the right to bring his boyfriend into the picture. Then it would look like Harry was the one being uncooperative and unyielding.

"Delightful. Lets proceed to the medical tests." Everyone took their seat. Fresh tea waited.

"Our Physician is on stand-by to evaluate Harry's eligibility. This requires a full scan of his physical health as well as his magic, and a letter of reproductive integrity. Is there any reason why Mr. Potter cannot complete his medical tests today? The sooner we have his scores, the sooner we can establish courtship dates, providing his results leave no doubt as to whether or not he's fit to produce an heir."

When everyone looked at him, Harry let his eyes linger on Draco, who said nothing. The guy was really going to make him give a sperm count? If he had to drop his pants over someone who was making it this difficult, he decided he wasn't doing it alone. Why was the burden of proof put on him?"

His father seemed to know that he wanted an answer to that question. "It's just a preliminary, Harry. Draco's paper work already provides proof that he's been subjected to the same testing. His medical records are notarized for the purpose of this arrangement."

Notarized? What good did that do? "But are they current? How regularly are they updated? He's capable of being impregnated. Just like a woman's, his sexual status can change at any time, and how will you know?"

Lucius went rigid. "How dare you!"

"Draco is a virgin, Harry. Three different doctors testified with signatures. I have them right here."

"Mr. Malfoy is asking me to use his doctor. I think it only fair that Draco is requalified under the examination of a doctor of our choosing."

Lucius stood abruptly, knocking back his chair. "That is an insult that this meeting cannot recover from."

Narcissa grabbed his sleeve. "Now, Lucius, it's not entirely as unreasonable as it sounds. We know our son. He doesn't."

His eyes never left Harry. "He is basically calling us liars. What more do we need to know?"

Lily couldn't bite her lip any longer. She clutched the edges of the table as she thrust her opinion at Lucius. "This is about trust. You'd ask him to take your word that your son hasn't allowed anyone else to plant seeds, yet you won't take his that he's perfectly capable of producing a child? If these are formalities, why aren't you as willing to put your son through them as we are ours? We have a right to insist on our doctors. That's not accusatory, that's practical. You certainly did."

James placed a hand on her arm to calm her.

Narcissa folded her hands. "Let's all calm down. It would be a shame to mar this day with insecurities. You must forgive my husband. Letting go, is not something he's very good at. And Draco is our only proof that we did something truly wonderful together in this life."

She turned to Harry as Lucius smoldered beside her. "If the roles were reversed, of course we would want testing by our own doctors. Prior to this marriage, we must do everything in our power to say that we've done right by our heirs. Before we release them to their own decisions, we must be able to say that we've left no stone unturned, so to speak. Forgive us. Draco will undergo examination from any doctor you provide."

No one missed how her hand wrapped itself around her husband's as she looked Harry's family in their eyes. "Those of us who are older and wiser, know what a trifle thing virginity is. Let's not make it the bane of this courtship. Not when these two are so well matched on paper."

"It's not a deal-breaker," Harry said. "Since we've only had twenty minutes to get to know each other, that information is more significant than it should be. If I had a summer to date Draco, I wouldn't be concerned. But this is my one chance to seal a marriage deal with him."

He looked from Narcissa to Draco. "Whether or not I've been told the truth, is now more relevant than ever. If we trusted each other, we'd just get hitched right now. But nobody trusts anyone and that's what these meetings are for, to get past all that. You're asking this of me, to deem me worthy of courtship. I want to offer an alternative course in the structure. Either Draco agrees to let me court him without my tests, right now, and I'll let his medical confirmation stand as legal truth. That way, we can skip this part and go straight to the courtship. Or, he submits to physical examination under the doctor of my choosing and I'll do the same for him."

Like following a tennis ball, all heads turned to Draco.

Devastation took the light out of Draco's eyes, casting them in darkness. They were suddenly filled with the shadows of a man who could not speak his discomfort. Poised, pale, and perfect, Draco couldn't seem to hide the blood rushing away from the surface of his skin, pooling somewhere in his core. His lips summoned words, but nothing left them. It was the look of horror, as if he'd never guessed that Harry would do such a thing, since no one ever had. People who were rushed to evacuation, held that look of utter unpreparedness. Of fear.

"It's just an offer. If you want to go ahead with your father's way of doing things, I'll submit to testing right now, but you have to as well. We can skip all of that, if you agree to let me court you now. It's not agreement to marriage. It just gets us past all of this."

By now, everyone could tell that Draco was stuck. Evidently, the choices imprisoned him in a place he had not shared with his parents. Some worry, some hesitation, caused him to draw inward. His torment was palpable. Lily felt compelled to offer comfort, but as soon as she leaned forward, Lucius asked his son, "Is there something you wish to tell your parents, Draco?"

The question wasn't soft or reassuring. It was simply presented.

Draco looked ill. He shook his head. "Those are horrible tests. It's different for people who can bear children, than it is for you." He looked at Harry, then to his father. "You said I'd never have to endure that violation ever again. You promised."

"I'm trying to keep that promise. It is Mr. Potter who mistakes his grasp upon the situation."

Harry ignored everyone, leaning over the table. "Now that we can speak along with the elders, we can have our say. Throw tradition out the window on this. It's a sore spot for both of us. I accept you just as you are. Let me court you, and get us the hell out of here."

"Draco, there's no point in courting a man who can't give you a child and who has in no other way proven his magic."

Harry was afraid that if he uttered one more word of encouragement, Mr. Malfoy could deny his application for courtship due to coercion. But he was confident that he had Draco by the balls, he just wasn't sure if Draco knew that as well. What was all that hokum about being violated? Whatever child bearers went through, it couldn't be any worse than having a captive audience wait on you to fill a cup with the most embarrassing fluids known to man. Harry had never experienced that, but something assured him he didn't want to.

Short of raking his hands down his face, Draco took a deep breath and steadied himself. His hand shook when he lifted his tea. "Yes," he spoke to Harry. So low, the others had to lean in to be sure of what they were hearing. So that there was no misunderstanding, he took a sip from his cup and sat it back down, hiding his unsteady hands under the table. "Yes, I agree to accept your suit. We'll court for now. We'll see how it goes."

It was the furthest he had ever gotten in negotiations for a suitor. It wasn't supposed to go this far. Harry was supposed to be disgusted by a husband who didn't want him. A husband loyal to someone else, whose body might already be compromised. Then there were other secrets Draco wasn't keen on his tests revealing. It would be easier to let Harry date him for eight weeks, than to tell his father that he wasn't a virgin. He had already compromised the Malfoy name. No off spring had come of it, but that was by effort, not by chance. Now here this idiot was, practically blackmailing him to gain the right to court him. Harry was definitely smarter than Draco had given him credit for. He wanted to play hardball? That's fine. Draco had eight weeks to figure out how to get rid of him. In the meantime, he'd try to behave himself and let Harry think he was running things.

So what if Harry had said some clever things when they were alone. Things Draco wished he'd heard from someone else. Words like, 'I plan on being faithful to you', and 'I'm not willing to share you,' were long overdue, well past the expiration date of their need to be heard. But when Harry had spoken them, they still made a fresh impact that had Draco stumbling over what he wanted to say, versus what he'd actually said.

If he could've trusted Harry, things would've been different.

The truth was, no one had ever listened to his committed-to-another-person story, while he watched as his value grew deeper in their eyes. Usually guys had their pride crushed the minute Draco assured them he would never love them. And he shook off most hanger-ons by expressing persistent disinterest until his father packed up their meeting and let him go.

But not Harry. This guy was clingy as fuck, and the way he'd drawn close enough to sniff Draco, left the other wondering how bad the repercussion would be to cross him. Just because Harry had forced him into a courtship, didn't mean there was going to be any wedding. He had some balls. Draco would just have to be extra vigilant that this guy with the weird birthmark, didn't back him into that particular corner. Harry was good looking. Even kind, until he started with that possessive shit. But it didn't matter. Draco couldn't marry him. He couldn't risk putting his body through that all over again. Not for anyone. The boyfriend story came in handy. It was so much kinder than the real reason he couldn't marry Harry.

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Top stories by this writer: The Unbearable series.


	3. Old Magic

Chapter 3: Old Magic

Summary: The Malfoys demand to see what they're getting. Harry makes them wish they'd never asked.

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WARNING:

I felt the need to give Harry a substantial family, after all the universes where he's always the pitiful orphan. This is not meant to resemble canon even a little bit.

And if you started reading this story based on the cute pic-fics, the following chapters are going to change in tone to something more "serious". (The second chapter already has.) As this story continues, it will become increasingly more dramatic. That doesn't mean it won't be fun. This will be the case with all of my pic-fics that grow into real stories. Sorry if anyone feels misled, I write the pic-fics to be playful. If more is created, the shit is going to get serious. And that's what I've learned about myself. :-)

Since learning that even my most harmless choices are a source of offense to some readers, I've gone a bit tense with presenting my updates. I want to be fair and to discourage anyone who is expecting more of the lightweight fluff that may have lured them to this story, from reading. The only thing I can promise is that there will be no important character deaths in this fic, if any, and that Harry and Draco are the one and only main pairing, and that love will prevail.

I hope I see you at the end of this story, if I don't, no hard feelings. :-)

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It was settled then. The courtship was now active and valid. Normally the meeting would've dispersed, and the Malfoys would've been treated to a dinner celebration. Letters detailing the first outing between the couple would follow. But Lucius Malfoy did not seem satisfied with Harry's renegade checkmate. He withheld his signature as everyone waited on him.

James Potter retained his smile and clasped his hands together, making a game of his long-suffering patience. "Is something wrong?"

"Haste is never wise. My son might be too exhausted to scrutinize the fine print, but I am not." His glance at Draco was reprimanding as he spoke to James. "If these two are going to leap into courtship without ceremony, I want insurance that the relationship will yield a return. I want a Certainty of Consummation. I will not sign those documents without it. Let the underwriters note my request."

James's eyes met Harry's questioning squint. He trivialized the request with half-interested laughter. While Narcissa and Lily concealed their reactions to Lucius's audacity, no one except Harry saw Draco freeze over into utter stillness.

"Mr. Malfoy," James began, "that is a level of privacy that my wife and I feel is best left up to the boys. While we all want to make sure everything go as planned, we can't control everything. Let it be noted that I deny the clause. Harry and Draco will be the only ones who decide what happens on their wedding night, should they get to that point."

"Sir, you are asking me to relinquish my firstborn to a wizard who would spoil him for any other, and not ask for recompense against such irreversible damage. All I'm asking for is a grandchild. If one is not presented in a year's time, we will be equipped with enough information to ask for a Write of Annulment, or proceed to more drastic arrangements. If not, the uncertainty could drag out indefinitely. Do not waste my time with ideologies of privacy. Once business is taken care of, the two shall have all the privacy they require. I'm not signing him over, otherwise."

Now James wasn't smiling. He let some of the annoyance he felt into his voice. "Like it or not, Draco is not a piece of land, to be signed over like a deed. My son can't spoil him, nor can he be polluted and ruined for anyone else. Those are outdated views. Any experience the boys share with one another, can only cause them both to grow. If the marriage is nullified for any reason, anyone Draco gives himself to after that, can only benefit from what he's learned. That's how relationships work."

Before Lucius could reply, James added, sparing another glance at Harry. "I realize your son is precious to you, and you're having to let him go. Mine is precious to me, and it isn't easy to sit here and listen to you express doubt after doubt that he can measure up to your expectations. No one, not even your son's excellence, measures up to your expectations. Just give these two a break."

Tension strained around the table. Lily looked down, the only indication that she was struggling to hold her tongue. As long as her husband kept up the fight, she wouldn't have to jump in unless he was in trouble. So far, she thought he was handling Lucius very well.

Equally, tendons stood on Narcissa's neck as her elegance held its grip in the face of opposition. Whether she agreed with her husband or not, she wasn't going to see him defeated. Dignity was everything. Surely they could all come to a dignified agreement.

Lucius didn't feel that he was being understood. He leaned forward.

"Let me say it a different way. If I sign, my son's virtue will be lost. It's not about some superstitious Victorian etiquette. It's about magical property. His body, his latent womb, has the ability to produce magic of the highest order, and none of us are getting any younger. He doesn't have all the time in the world. The females of his mother's line burn their magic hottest and brightest during their most fertile years. I would not have him dallying through the next five years, filled with romance, and not one child. He doesn't have a lifetime to take chances. Biologically, the next ten years are not guaranteed to him. This is the reason why we only have one child, and have had to invest our every hope in him. And judging by your household, you're no great producer of heirs, which causes me to think we should err on the side of caution where mating is concerned. Hence, Certainty of Consummation."

James crinkled his nose, a handless way of pushing his glasses up on his face. "Are you saying that Draco could be barren at some point?"

"I'm saying, the time for optimum conception is now, at the apex of his prime."

James could've argued that a person's twenties was no where near their prime, but his plummeting respect conveyed that he didn't want to get into it. This wizard was all business and wasn't going to understand the subtleties and compassion of philosophy. Besides, Draco had gone white as a sheet, and looked like their negotiations were torturing him. He wondered if the boy was going to make it through the meeting.

"Let the underwriters note a new concern," he stated to the Gringott's transcription documentary their ceremony. "Hereditary, limited fertility. You should've mentioned that."

He was immediately sorry when he saw Draco look stricken. The boy's sockets took on collapsed shadows as he looked inward on some wrong he must've done. Before James could speak, they all saw the tears Draco quickly wiped away.

Harry's head snapped to his father. "Dad!"

"No, Draco, that's nothing against you. It just makes your father's statements more understandable."

Now Draco's eyes closed, suppressing any more emotion, as well as appearing to shut out the sound of James's voice.

"Dad." Harry's plea needed for his father to fix it.

"What I mean is, given what we know now, a Certainty of Consummation isn't entirely unreasonable."

Draco's fingers lifted to weave a barrier between himself and those staring at him. Tips pressed into his forehead as he lowered it and Harry's stare slipped through the openings to make sure he was only calming himself behind them. He knew it. He knew Draco's false front was just a protective barrier. A part of him wanted to thank his father for revealing it, but he knew this had to be incredibly hard on Draco.

He turned to his father and said in his lowest, most respectful tone, "Dad, you're making my husband cry."

Taken back, James stammered an apology just as Draco shouted, "I'm not crying!"

Draco's assertion was loud and filled with heated offense. Even with a breaking voice, he was still full of strength. His outlandish denial only made his pride more obvious. James waited, to see if he could defend his outburst. He tried to tell Draco that he wanted him to. He needed him to. _Come on, son. You've got to stand up to your father some time._

"I mean, not for the reasons that you think," Draco managed. He regained his composure. "You're all talking about me as if I'm not here, and I'm just supposed to let you? I'm more concerned with getting this day over with than I am with any clause. I'll do my best to honor my family. After that, I'm done. I'm living on my terms and no one elses."

"But Draco," James appealed. "Are you okay with being held to a contract that demands intercourse with your husband on your wedding night?"

To soften this blunt blow, he added, "I can tell you, as a married man, nerves and the anxiety to perform can be tremendous, what with your whole extended family waiting right outside the door."

Harry smiled at the joke, wishing Draco could too.

"Seriously, there's so much pressure to perform, the last thing you want to do on your wedding night is force the issue just to say that you did."

"That's right," Lily added. "I won't say which one of us was more nervous, but we played chess and made obscene noises till our families went away happy. Then our honeymoon really got underway."

She deliberately avoided looking at her husband, not keen on retribution. The only one unable to perform that night, for just a few short hours, was implicit in her comment. She neglected to add the wonders that wine and soft, coaxing kisses had done.

Lucius looked confused. These were negotiations, not some kind of therapy intervention. The Potter's dip into kindness, at precisely the moment when they should've been tightening restraints on the whole affair, did not make sense to him. While Draco's outburst was unappealing, he could be forgiven, being the subject upon which so much rode. The Potter's displayed no discipline at all. He could see that he was going to have to stay very close to this marriage if he wanted that grandchild.

The warmth in Lily's admission only appeared to wound Draco further. He looked angry that she'd even presented him with a peace offering of a story.

To Harry it was clear. Draco wasn't used to love. Not the kind that let him cry, anyway. His regained composure threatened to break again. But he answered, "If that's what will shut my father up, let him have it."

His tone took the wind out of everyone. It was a win for Mr. Malfoy, but a hard one. As if his son's words were a betrayal, he stared at him, faltering at such vehemence. Draco's resentment met him. In that moment, an idol fell. An obelisk, a monument of utter supplication and worship, was seen for the mask of fear that it really was, and abandoned. In the meeting of their stare, Draco walked away. Harry saw it happen, though Draco remained seated across from him.

The clause was written in.

"Is that everything?" James directed his question at Lucius.

"No. Your genealogy places your son's magic in the same stock with pagan wizards of old. We require a demonstration of this grade of magic."

Glances shifted around the table. The last battle of wills seemed to have taken something out of all of them.

Lucius rolled his eyes upon realizing they didn't get it. He looked directly at Harry.

"Prove your magic."

Harry shuddered, pinned to his chair by the dagger-like focus of this wizard. "How?"

"Do something no one else can do." This should've been obvious, Lucius' tone suggested.

James laughed. "Miracles are not necessarily magic. There's a difference."

Narcissa spoke up. "What my husband means is, we require an external representation of your magic. Ideally, your patronis."

Harry went confused. There was nothing spectacular about his patronis. It was the same as his father's. While he was proud of it, he was pretty sure no one in the room was going to be impressed by it.

He asked Draco, "My patronis? Is that a sufficient demonstration for you? You can set a task for me, you know? Hide something in a remote part of the world, and let me bring it back to you. Ask me to solve a problem you've been working on your whole life. What would you ask me to do, to prove my magic?"

Draco looked at him, ready to throw out a convenient answer that would get everyone's eyes off of him. But something warred behind his expression, as if he considered asking for something impossible, something he really wanted. Harry felt his troubled desire, and tuned into it. He sensed Draco's thoughts. If this was the strongest magic available to him, then why waste it on something silly? Why not ask for the thing that would fix everything. Harry didn't know what that was, but he saw it in Draco's desperate grasp on his composure.

He leaned forward. "Ask me anything. You're my motivation."

Draco looked at his father, then back to Harry. Guarded anxiety dulled the brightness in his eyes. "I'll be able to tell your magic by your patronis."

Harry turned to Lucius. "And then you'll sign?"

Chin high, lips smug. "If your patronis proves compatible, I'll sign."

Without further ado, Harry took out his wand and steadied his concentration. He could produce his magic in animal-spirit form without thinking about it, but something told him the Malfoys were testing him in a different way and he'd need all the form and energy he could pull from himself. A patronis was born of one's essence and took symbolic, animal form of one's intuitive nature. Personality resonated with the animal kingdom, and pulled attributes that best represented not only a wizard's magic, but what was in his heart. It was an honesty that could not be manipulated to deceive. Since it could not lie, it was a fair request to allow it to be seen by all.

He chose not to verbalize the charm and simply let his intention pour through him into his wand. Immediately, silvery cobalt blue exploded from the tip and swelled into the form of a four-legged beast. A stag, just like his fathers. Usually, it remained an outline, but he put so much into it, the animal took on mass and sinew. Its shape filled out with rough antlers, a stout trunk, a rib cage that showed expansion as it simulated breath and fur-lined muscles contracted beneath their woolly coat. Its nostrils bellowed blue mist. The animal was quite large, the realistic size of an adult buck, and was so convincing that it inspired those witnessing it, to an irrational concern for wildness running a muck in a civilized setting.

Harry had cast the creature behind Draco. It leapt over the table and bounded in a circular spiral that carried it upward, over everyone's head. At first, soundless hooves beat a path as it raced along each wall, putting on a show of form and magic as everyone in the room had to admit the creature was more robust and vivid than most projected spirit animals. Then sound came with vibrations that shook the walls as hooves thundered across them, hard as any physical stampede. Harry watched to see if it was enough to appease the Malfoys.

While Lucius did not admit to being impressed, his face tightened on something he wasn't expecting, something that left his mouth slightly open and his gaze momentarily free of criticism. Unspoken communication flickered between him and his wife. As for Draco, he looked at Harry's patronis as if it were a personal treaty against him. Jaw clenched, eyes following erratically, his chest heaved to contain his reaction, which, if Harry didn't know better, was one of alarm.

The magical creature pranced around the room several more times before streaking back to its progenitor. Harry's wand tip still glowed, even though the link between it and the animal was no longer visible. He would've allowed the stag to dissipate, but the creature seemed too strong, as if it existed with more than the intention to merely be seen. When it walked up behind his chair, he waited to see what would happen. This demonstration was for Draco, so the animal's behavior might've been drawn to Draco. It simply stopped behind Harry's chair, facing Draco, and steamed the air with illusory breaths. Its antlers wreathed the space above Harry's head with bark-like points of growths that continued to extend until the antlers curved forward, like jagged, cupped hands around Harry's chair, particularly his shoulders and head.

To everyone's astonishment, the antlers crowned Harry's head and shoulders four feet above him and four feet around him, while pointing to Draco. Harry's magic appeared to glisten with star-like quality, as it dripped off the tips of the antlers. Without opening his mouth, Harry's patronis openly chose Draco and asked him to join that sphere of power. _Forget these rules and join me._ Harry could not have hidden his contempt for the rules of this ceremony if he'd wanted to. The animal was an expression of his most centered, unshakable certainty of his right to be supremely happy. It spoke his truth, and asked for Draco's hand.

Draco somehow felt retaliation was in order. This was too honest, too personal, to be suffered in front of his family. He wasn't a fucking damsel who needed rescuing. How dare this guy think that he'd just melt and join him. He ruled his world just as much as Harry did his, and he pulled his wand out, ready to match Harry's masculine overture with one of his own.

No one heard Narcissa's throat clearing disapproval, or the look her husband gave her to silence her. The language taking place between Harry and his chosen, seemed to be a private conversation and no one at the table had ever seen patroni do this before. They let Draco have his say.

Draco aimed behind the stag. A typical silvery sheen of advanced magic, issued forth, shooting straight through the animal. But it rebounded, coming back into the room as deep green light. Harry saw it reflected in his father's glasses and had to turn in his seat to see what everyone else was staring at. For a second, he wondered if Draco was attempting to use the infamous killing curse to obliterate his patronus, but no, something else was happening.

The den had long served as a formal meeting room. It held a balance of antique tables and conference furniture, thanks to Lily's preference for the practical. Bookshelves ran adjacent to rising windows that overlooked the garden. All of it, washed in a watery spectrum, that made Harry feel like he was looking through wavy green glass. Not bright and pastel, but deep and emerging, like some underwater quality coming out of the dark. It was a velvet, jewel-toned algae, like something that could only grow hidden from the sight of mankind, in a lost forest, or a prehistoric ocean. Harry got the impression of chlorophyll burgeoning with enzymes to the point of bursting effervescence. That was the magic happening at a microscopic level.

Vaporous depths of that color, that old magic, filled the air. It had a smell, like metal heating up. Harry had never made the connection between smells and magic before, but his senses told him that Draco was pulling magic into the room that was literally too big for the space. The burning smell was a sign of expansion, the way heating ducts warmed after a season of disuse, throwing the first currents of rising heat out into the air. For someone who put off a vibe of being cold and unapproachable, his magic raised the temperature.

Just as that was a welcomed sensation on the first chilly day of autumn, it inspired pleasant anticipation in Harry's stomach. This hinted of hidden sexuality.

Even though they were magic, the Potter's home was equipped with all the conveniences that nonmagical people enjoyed. They embraced muggle culture as well as their own. As Draco's magic filled the room, Harry could almost taste its dense quality. Taste and smell filled him with phantom images of sunlight wafting into a hot old attic, falling across stacks of forgotten tomes, dried out cracked and yellowed pages. The burn of dust and heat stung his nostrils.

They all heard the creature before they saw it. Its sound thundered in their chests, not their ears. That low vibration gave the impression of something that stayed close to the ground and invisible along jagged rock walls. They looked at one another when they weren't searching the ceiling for the apparition to take shape. The low rumble drew their eyes upwards, where light and shadows took on the ambiance of an otherworldly sky. Not evening blue, but ocean green. They looked up into depths as distant as black space and watched the thing soar down to them from a great height of nebulous gasses and moonlit illumination.

When it flapped its wings, clouds stirred away. Like all patroni, it traveled on a spiral of cast energy. The fact that it started so high in the sky, spoke of the layers Draco was using to reach as far beyond himself as he could, and to harness as much of the raw materials the elements made available to him. He wasn't just casting a patronis, he was opening a portal. And the fact that he was doing it alone, without the typical help of a coven, or at least a partner, made it all the more aggressive and shocking.

The beast came down. Its shadow took more form than it did, warning them that it was a thing of substance, and physically valid in its own world. They felt it gain momentum and velocity. Every person looking up, were suddenly privileged to view what they must've looked like through its eyes. In a mixture of magic, the strongest form of communication became emotional telepathy. They saw down into the house, into the room, into the universe of mortals looking up at a creature that had abandoned the world of humans long ago.

The fact that Draco's patronis was a dragon, did not surprise them. The fact that it was so immense, and beautiful, did. Only so much of it could manifest into the visible spectrum at a time. Its armor could've been crafted from labradorite. Smooth plates reflected silvery light and transferred it into shifting blues until the coolest places on its body appeared as the darkest and greenest. When one's eyes weren't being deceived, it was the color of moldavite. It traveled in a trail of its own dark vapor and blotted out the sky as it grew closer. The walls shook at its approach. Plaster trickled onto the table. Everyone braced themselves. This wasn't real, they reminded themselves. Draco was showing off, and as impressive as it was, it only hinted at a deeper issue.

The thing opened its wings. It revealed a span too great to fit into the room. Skeletal extensions unfurled thick, opaque wings that held an opalescent sheen to them. Harry saw muscle definition pulling tendons to create a powerful airflow as it flapped its wings. Resulting wind blew everyone's hair back as the creature convinced them of its reality. It thrashed in the sky, roaring on an auditory level that no ear heard, but which caused every heart to stumble off rhythm. It was an intimidating creature, as exciting to see as it was terrifying.

Just as everyone reassured themselves that there was no danger in the creature attempting to land in the room, talons, the size of a car, ripped through the fabric of the moment, and emerged right through the walls. They were dark, glistening, and ridged like wooden totem carvings. Something burned red-black deep inside them, and before Harry could suspect that it was the dragon's blood, the thing lifted its head and expanded its chest.

He heard Narcissa say, "That's enough, Draco."

He wanted to look at her, to see what she knew, but the dragon held him captivated. He was tempted to forget about his own patronus, but the stag glowed fiercely beside his chair, as if serving as a reminder that he must keep it active. He must keep it bright and focused in the moment.

Something stirred inside the dragon. It's head was so far above the room, Harry could hardly make out the details of it's snout. There were no obvious horns, but the way it brought its own atmosphere with it, one could not be sure. He did see the silver eyes. They were the last thing he saw before something gurgled in the underbelly of the beast and lit it from the inside. It started like a warm glow, an ember coming into view. Then it elongated and grew up the core of the beast and Harry knew what was coming. In fact, the time it took, was the warning. He had plenty of warning, and still he stayed. When the others at the table stood and abandoned their positions, he stayed. When his mother came back to grab him, he gently shook her off. He had only a vague notion that his father removed her.

This moment needed his full attention. No one else seemed to trust Draco's control over his magic, not even his parents. It was okay if they needed to run, but he couldn't afford to. Now was the time to prove to Draco that he wasn't going anywhere, and he wasn't afraid of the worst Draco could dish out.  
Whatever flame came out of those magical lungs, they would be made of Draco's molten core and Harry steadied himself to face them.

He locked onto the creature's deadly aim. When it opened its mouth, he saw flames, red-orange as an iron worker's oven in the back of its throat. But in the journey down to him, those flames gusted into air that turned them green. They rushed at him, blinding him to all else but their blistering light, which colored every surface in the room. In those flames, he opened himself up and let them engulf him. It was like stepping into a tunnel of flaming blades. His line of sight had no choice but to peer into the nucleus of the fire, back to its source. This is how he latched on to Draco's magic.

Behind him, in safety, the others watched. Only Draco remained seated, admiring his creation. Harry's stag leapt in front of him the moment the dragon breathed its wrath. Instead of shielding Harry, it let the flames in, but appeared to grow in size, in an effort to process them. The whole of the fire engulfed the stag, but Harry's patronus remained stable as Draco's excess magic poured out around it. Only a thin stream of flame made it through the stag and into Harry's focus. That stream proved critical, burning with laser intensity into Harry's eyes, but concentrating more at the spot between his eyebrows.

In that space, he locked on to Draco's magic. He felt it, and pulled. With his stag in front of him to bear all the energy, Harry pulled and put all that he could of Draco's fire, into his stag. At first the flames were forthcoming and gushed out more than he could use. But Draco's intelligence snagged on the discovery of what he was doing, and pulled his fire back. He must've felt Harry's touch, as invasive and real, as any physical touch would've been. At first the dragon recoiled, its talons detaching from the room for a moment, only to add extra heat and vehemence to the spray it sent down on Harry. It meant to burn his intentions and to lay his plans to the ground until his hopes turned to ashes. It vented rage and power that everyone watching, knew Draco had hidden all his life. If Harry was foolish enough to stand in that path, then he would get the full brunt of it.

For all of Draco's heat, the flames were not hot. At least, insulated by his patronus, Harry experienced the fire as windswept momentum. Instead of burns, his skin felt like he was facing a wind tunnel. Through the green lens that filtered his vision, he stopped seeing the dragon and saw Draco on the other side.

It could've been a steep hillside on one of Ireland's most remote landscapes. There, the sky framed Draco and his dragon, who perched on a distant ledge some feet behind him. The dragon wasn't nearly as big in this dreamscape, but it was still impressive, and Harry saw that the color shifting in its plated armor, gave it the ability to conceal itself, blend with the background, or become invisible altogether. The dragon was regal and sat surveying the hills below, its silver eyes as sharp as an eagle's. It watched with mild interest as Harry moved closer the Draco, who smiled.

Harry was sure this was a dream, but it was a window into Draco's head and no less important for being so. They were so high up, so far above the cares of the world, that Draco regained his happiness in this place. The landscape around them was so steep, Harry felt ready to fall off the earth. They could've launched themselves into flight, without the dragon, just by leaping downhill. There was lots of symbolic communication here, and he realized that in this moment, Draco was telling him everything he could. His smile said the most.

_You broke through. You made it. You found me._

It was a smile that muggle toothpaste commercials would've paid millions for. It was filled with light, rivaled only by his hair. He was dressed in heavy khakis, riding boots, and a formal shirt so white that it glowed in the sun. Thin, brown leather straps braced over his shirt and trousers, and Harry guessed that they connected to a riding harness fit for a pet dragon. Draco's sleeves were rolled up and Harry thought he saw the hair on his arms reflect sunlight back at him. He looked for the same reserved qualities that he'd left at the meeting table, and found none as Draco stepped toward him.

This is a fantasy, he told himself. He tried to kill you with that thing. Now you're in the hospital, probably on some morphine drip to control the pain, and you're still dreaming of him. That didn't stop him going giddy with anticipation as Draco's body blocked the sun and bent close. In the cool of that shadow, Harry kept his eyes open as long as he could, to make sure he was really seeing Draco lean in to kiss him. Draco was taller, and that only made his smooth lips more exciting as they descended on him. Harry tried to memorize every pink crease, the fine down of surface hairs, and even pores when he couldn't find a blemish to hang his memory onto. He knew the kiss would destroy him, and he had to let it.

Draco's arms enveloped him as if he'd spent an eternity waiting to see Harry again. His kiss was timeless, and in that exchange, they remembered who they were and why they were there. It was a reunion, and Harry knew that if it ended, so would the knowledge of who they were. They continued to kiss, demanding to stay in this space for as long as they could. Both knew it wouldn't last. The window was already closing, and both tried to give and take what they could.

Here, Draco's body wasn't limited to flesh and blood. Harry felt each thrill of his emotions as well as the exquisite desire they both shared. His skin felt warm with the day's sun infusing it, but cool with the immaterial of magic. It was tactile enough, and they used their bodies to slide along each other, receiving the kind of sensation they could only have between lifetimes. Somewhere, long ago, Draco had gone by another name, and had asked Harry to join him. Uncertain of his path, Harry had been sure he didn't want anymore adventures. "How will I know you?"

Earth lives look so tempting when you're above them. Cake looks amazing when you have no body to taste it with, but can feel the joy that went into making it. Your longing to join a race that makes such beautiful, delicious things, is overwhelming.

But once you merge with life, it could make you feel anything, from exhilaration to loss. Draco kept going back there. He kept getting them both into all kinds of trouble. Draco did it for the fun. Harry did it to follow Draco's smile. To be caught in its illumination, was everything.

"How will you know me? I'll be the keeper of everything you love. I'll encode it into my DNA. You do the same for me."

That was their eternal hide and seek. It was a great game, but they had to make it believable in order to stay committed to those lives. In some, they forgot who they were and really suffered. In some, they'd made mistakes and cried so hard that they trapped themselves in sorrow, and spent an eternity finding their way back out again. In some realities, they were still searching for one another. And in this one, Draco had disassociated so much from a happiness that he felt to be unrealistic, that he'd left his most valuable self behind.

"What did you do? Why are you so afraid to be with me?" Harry asked, knowing that now was his only chance to unlock the truths to Draco's real heart.

Light Draco, the one who knew that he was made of happiness and nothing else, whispered. "I made a mistake. I set it up really nice for you, because I know how you hate for things to come too easily." The friendliness with which he revealed all of his teeth, did not disappoint Harry, who swooned.

Harry felt his withdrawal even as he held him. Their time was up.

"No!" Harry held tightly, as if his desire could stop eternal forces. "Please, no. It took me forever to find you." He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the feel of the other in his arms. He heard laughter and felt Draco's embrace tighten.

"I made a mistake." Even Draco's tone, as sad as it seemed now, was filled with smiling acceptance. When Harry could no longer feel his body against him, he heard one last time, "I made a mistake."

That was Harry's experience inside the flame of Draco's patronis. What he didn't see, was how everyone in the room kept their eyes on his stag. As Draco's dragon shrank, Harry's stag grew. It didn't reach mythical proportions like the dragon, but took on solidity. Its antlers branched out into symmetrical spikes that appeared to spray a silvery resin of magic from their tips as they grew. That's where the dragon's energy went. The antlers took on unnatural shapes, spiraling like fanciful mandalas as they increased in length to accommodate the magic. This is where Harry stored Draco's excessive rage and neutralized it into something less volatile.

The backlit sky behind the dragon, was the first thing to fade. And through what was left, a much smaller version of the creature, translucent against the ceiling and walls, could now be seen.  
The more Draco tried to hold his patronis together, the more he felt drained. His rage was gone, and the assertion he used to maintain it, exhausted him. He let go, as if having the last of it wrested from his grip. His body actually jerked forward in his chair, as Harry pulled on the link to his patronus until nothing more came from it. Draco leaned forward, clearly nauseated by the effort. They all thought he was going to be sick, and Narcicssa was the first to rush to his side.

"Darling, it's all right." She pressed her hands to his back. As if competing for graciousness, Lily moved to Draco's side with a glass of water. Both women looked at each other with steel in their eyes. Lily did not back down.

For a moment, they seemed to forget the way Harry's trance state continued to hold him and the fact that his stag towered over the table, aiming a veritable tree of magic over his and Draco's heads. The creature was still robust and lit, dripping pearls and sprouts of energy over their tea cups, still very much activated. Draco ignored his mother's touch, saw Harry's magic reflected in his tea, and lifted his eyes to the threads of silvery power weaving through those monstrous set of antlers. If Harry couldn't describe what he'd seen in the vision, then neither could Draco. They weren't exactly the same visions but Draco had no more of an explanation for what happened to him, than Harry did.

All he saw, was his beautiful, extraordinary green fire, consumed by an average, four-legged beast. The best magic available to him, better even than his music, had been extinguished like an offensive household fire, and not the work of art that it was. And now the thing was looking down at him as if it expected him to kneel to it. And the absolute worst thing was, Draco couldn't even feel his anger anymore. That had been his fuel. He needed that. All that was left now, was humiliation and a ton of confusion. How could this happen? All his life, his patronus was the one place he could pour his magic without restraining himself, and this fucker eats it in one gulp? Fucking vampire! That's what he was, and Draco was damned if he was going to marry a goddamn vampire.

He wanted to say it, to yell it, to all of them. But the more he stared up into the eyes of Harry's monstrous patronis, the more frustration welled inside of him. Before he could vent his nastiest thoughts, frustration spilled over the brims of his eyes. Unable to stop himself, his perfect face crumbled into something he could no longer hide. Valuable seconds were lost before his body cooperated to get him to his feet and out of his mother's reach. The women were babying him and that just made it all worse. He knew his behavior was unacceptable and his father had to be let down and furious, which was why he didn't bother looking Lucius's way when he ran from the room.

His vision swam through wet heat and mucus. He had no idea where he was going, just out and away, whichever came first. But they were following him and he heard a jumble of voices calling his name. The Potter's home wasn't that fancy, he told himself, why the hell couldn't he find his way out? He ignored the concern in the voices calling him, and threw himself into the nearest enclosure when he knew they weren't going to leave him alone.

It turned out to be a bathroom. It had a stained glass window that didn't open, or he would've crawled out of it. Otherwise, it was small, bright with plenty of lighting, dark cabinets and breezy white curtains. It smelled seldom used, like a guest bathroom, with unburned candles and the scent of hard water and rose soaps. It reminded him of an old woman, but he sat on the closed lid of the toilet and let out the worst of his sobs as muffled as he could. He knew any one of the adults outside could break the charm he'd placed on the door, if they wanted to. But he was hoping they'd at least give him a few moments to himself and not do that.

Who was this guy, Harry Potter? And why was this happening? He couldn't marry this guy. He couldn't. And yet something wasn't giving him a choice.

On the other side of the door, Harry was the last to find where the party had ended up. Ahead of him, in the narrow hall, he saw Lucius and his father talking competitively, heads bent, in front of the door. Lily, arms folded, waited as her husband tried to talk sense into Lucius.

"Let's just all come away from the door and give him time. I'm sure Draco will come out when he's ready."

"The least he can do is say something. Draco, come out at once."

"Take all the time you need, Draco, mummy's right here."

"Can we get you anything, Draco?" Lily sounded overwrought, as if she had a responsibility to fix Draco's breakdown because it was happening in her home.

Exasperated, Lucius hammered his demand into James's face. "Will you please give me a few minutes alone with my son? This is rather personal."

"Oh, now you respect his privacy."

Harry was going to try to wedge in and pull his father away, but Lily beat him to it. "Let them try." She was about to say more, when Harry saw his Godfather Sirius, followed by his grandmother and his Uncle Remus, headed down the hall to see what all the commotion was. A few steps behind them, trailed his father's mother, her two sisters, and his mother's uncle. Most of his relatives lived further away, and he wasn't as close to them as he was his mother's mother. 'Gamy' had quaffed her brilliant, burgundy finger waves for the occasion and her eyes assured Harry that whatever was happening, it couldn't be that bad, as she used Remus's gentle arm to lean on and kept her cane steady.

He'd known there was a room full of waiting relatives and a dinner celebration planned afterwords, if all went well, but he'd lost track of who had actually shown up. His arrangement with Draco was equivalent to a pre-wedding banquet and it wasn't a good sign that the other had locked himself out of reach before negotiations were over.

More than a little distressed, he called for his dad's attention, jerking his head to point out the unwanted party train closing in. James disentangled himself from his wife and tore away to hear his son out.

"Dad, now what?"

Sirius strode into the corridor, a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. He wore a warm, rust dinner jacket that complimented his gloriously thick curls and full mustache. Mirth danced around the edges of his eyes as he handed the drink to James. A slight smile belied how serious he was taking the moment. "Having a spot of trouble, are we?"

James was hellbent on staying positive. He took the drink, holding up his hands and gesturing to the rest of his approaching family that everything was fine. "Draco is a little nervous. We've all seen this before. Everything's under control, it's all fine. Nothing to worry about."

Sirius twisted, relaying the message in an amplified voice to those bringing up the rear. "Prince Charming's in the loo. Got cold feet, apparently. Locked himself in there."

Gamy plugged her ears over his volume, and Harry and James frowned in the wake of it. Sirius was drunk. He turned back to them, taking in their disapproval. He knew what they were thinking. "It's not everyday my Godson finds his soulmate. When you said we were going to celebrate, I saw no reason to wait."

Any other time, James would've joined his complete disregard of the situation, but Harry looked desperate to talk to him.

Harry appealed to Sirius. "Dad made my husband cry."

James's mouth fell open. "Me? That boy was already in tears. What were you doing with your stag?"

"I was just trying to take his pain away. His dragon was so big because he gives it his repressed emotions. He was doing fine until you called him barren."

James's head fell forward. "Oh my god. Okay, I'm sorry. I feel bad about that. Honestly, I had no idea that kid even had feelings. He sat like a stone through most of the proceedings. I didn't mean to make him cry. But part of me is relieved. I don't want Harry marrying an iceberg."

Sirius tsked. "Way to go, Prongs."

James ignored him. "But Harry, these are the kinds of things that have to be discussed to avoid problems later. And slow down, you're not married yet."

"I might as well be. If I want him, I've got to make it real in my mind. I've made my choice, Dad. That's my husband. I can't acknowledge any other option or I'll lose him. That's how it works."

Sirius grinned. "I like a man who knows what he wants."

Remus squeezed his way up behind him. "What's all this?"

As soon as he could, Sirius took his drink from him and gulped. "Celebrations, mate. The blueboods are talking their kid off the pot. Seems our Harry put the fear of God in 'em. He came in haughtier than a pilgrim's buckle, now he's blushing and crying behind that door." Sirius pointed. "Very high maintenance, Harry, if you ask me. But he's prettier than the lot of birds chasing after you, I'll give him that."

As if reading Harry's mind, his father and Remus did what he could not bring himself to do to his Godfather. They both looked at Sirius and said, "Shut up!"

Remus took his drink back. "No more for you."

Just then, Gamy lifted her cane. "Something's burning."

Everyone began sniffing the air, their noses turning instinctively to the bathroom.

"I don't smell anything," James leaned toward the Malfoys. "Is he burning something? A spell?"

Judging by the outrage hardening in Lucius's glare, the question did not compute.

Just then, one of Harry's great aunts pointed to the way across the hall. Smoke was indeed traveling along the ceiling and starting to cause a haze around the corner. James scrambled past Sirius, followed by Harry, Remus, and Lily, who had time to shout at the Malfoys. "There's a fire. Get him out of there."

The smoke was coming from the meeting room and it took a heart-stopping moment for James to see the files and documents he'd left on the table, glowing orange with magical urgency. Yes, there was a fire, but not a burning one. Just a magical one. It was Gringott's way of signaling urgent and unacknowledged changes to the documents. Down the hall, he could hear the Malfoys raising their voices to get their son to come out.

He turned to Lily. "Please tell them it's okay. Let the lad stay in there as long as he wants. They must be just as exhausted as we are. Persuade them to come have drinks. Tell them negotiations are over for today, I don't care what happens."

He turned to the small crowd of family pouring through the door. Loving curiosity blinked expectantly back at him. So much for safety drills. His own aged mother looked delighted as she waited to hear news of the official engagement. He knew the reason for her smile was that she'd turned her hearing aid off and thought all the commotion was about the big announcement. She'd made up her mind that that was the only news worth listening to.

James so wanted to gladden her heart with that news, but before he braced himself to announce that he had no announcements, Gringott's documents discharged a plume of smoke from their glowing surfaces. James spoke to the underwriters through their two-way quills.

"I know, I know, we've not finished our agreements. Mr. Malfoy was just about to sign. When he comes back from the bathroom, I'll see if he's ready."

Thinking he was on top of it, a second plume of smoke rose up from the document, choking him as it wafted to the ceiling. The response was so immediate, he got the feeling his statement was perceived as inadequate. He opened the document. His eyes scanned the legal jargon, confirming there was nothing amiss except the new gold lettering and official stamp.

Gold lettering. Official stamp.

He tried to keep emotion from his face as Harry and the others looked at him.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

He held a finger up, asking Harry to wait while he read the newly written clauses and documentation that verified the changes. Harry tried to look at the pages but he brought them to his chest. He stared into his son's darkening brow, and silently appealed to Harry's patience.

"If you'll get Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I'll be happy to share Gringott's findings with you. This is something we all have to take in together."

Harry hesitated. "But what about Draco? I don't want to force him to come out."

"Then don't. You don't have to. Give Draco his space and we'll sit down and go over this new information together." He gave Harry his most confident smile, knowing Harry wasn't falling for it.

It took fifteen minutes to persuade the Malfoys away from the bathroom, and everyone else back out into the hall. When someone explained to Mother Potter why Draco was locked in the bathroom, she got the idea to offer him lady fingers laced with Valium, "for his nerves," and held a silver platter to the door while she talked him into eating one. "Just one dear. In my day, these were indispensable."

She was so frail and certain of her helpfulness, no one had the heart to pull her away from the door. If Draco heard her, he didn't answer.

Remus and Harry's Gama, looked at each other knowingly. In Mother Potter's day, women of a certain stature, sedated themselves comatose to keep from dealing with their problems. Gama Evans braced her stout back against the wall, put both hands on the handle of her cane, and made herself at home among the chaos.

Harry's absence gave James time to show Lily the documents. As soon as she understood, her hand flew to cover her open mouth. Balled fists reached for the roots of her hair. "Nooooo!"

"Shhhh! We can't let him think anything's wrong.

"Nnnnooooo!"

"Hun, let's be strong for Harry. For both of them. It's not that bad."

"I'm not ready!"

"I know. Nobody's ready. Look at the bright side."

Lucius Malfoy's heaving annoyance beat her to the quick. "And what, pray tell, is the bright side? This is a farce. All the boy had to do was show his damn patronis, he didn't have to attack Draco's."

James couldn't believe it. Even with far more pressing matters on the table, he couldn't let Lucius get away with that one. "Your son's dragon attacked. Harry simply defended himself."

"Against what? The animals are hardly real. Your son used his magic to consume Draco's superior creation. Hardly a gesture fit for premarital courtship."

Lily threw her body between them. She didn't notice how the whirl of her hair slapped Lucius's face.

"Enough! I'm sending for drinks because James has some news that's pretty much going to render this argument obsolete." She whirled again, passing the entry of Narcissa and Harry.

Narcissa looked shaken but coping.

Harry looked mortified. "Dad, Grandma is drugging my husband. She told him the cakes would make all of this go away, and he opened the door and took one."

James was not a religious man, but it was at that moment that he called upon every deity he'd ever heard of. "Let's just get through the next ten minutes. And I'm not starting till the alcohol arrives."

When the temporary maid arrived with a rolling bar, and Sirius had snuck quietly into a chair, clutching a blue martini spelled from an empty glass, no one was that concerned with kicking him out. In fact, James asked Remus to join them, needing their support, in order to reveal the news. No matter how much he wet his vocal chords, the alcohol seemed to dry them out.

When his voice scratched to the point of phlegm clogging his throat, Sirius straightened. "This can't be good. You're all choked up, mate."

"Lucius, I think you should have a look a this before I say anything."

Lucius, drink in hand, slouched like a sullen aristocrat, put off by the very imperfection of the day. Even his hair lay wan and slack on his shoulders.

What was James Potter whining about now? The sooner this travesty was laid to rest, the better. His head had really started to pound, what with him not knowing how to coax Draco out of the bathroom. This was beyond embarrassing.

He stood, his body language ready to make light of James's dramatic request by disregarding anything Gringott's manipulators had to say concerning his son's courtship. He looked at the lines pointed out to him by James's thick index finger. It took a second to register. In the next second, nostrils flaring with heated disbelief, he snatched the documents from James's possession altogether.

"This can't be."

Why would they? How could they? "This can't be legal." Everyone in the room saw his thin lips quiver.

James made a last effort to be compassionate, but his heart wasn't in it. "They have a permit to use the Ministry's seal. There it is," he pointed out. "It doesn't take if the contract isn't perfectly legal. In fact, that's what all the smoke was about. The goblins alerted me that there's nothing they can do to change it. We can still arrange the courtship, since the boys really don't know each other. It would still be helpful to take things slow, but..."

"But what's the point?" Lucius finished, looking devastated. His eyes fell on his wife, then Harry. "They can't do this. What about the clause?"

Harry tried to control his temper. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

James sighed. "Harry, I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened, but-"

"You and Draco are married," Lucius finished for him.

James glared at him. "Apparently, the magic used in this room, influenced the magic inherent in the contract, and -"

"And it rewrote the laws," Lucius interrupted again. "Yours and Draco's lines refuse to be parted, having survived so thoroughly through generations of incompatible magic. The goblins claim that your blood tells a story. Your veins have been looking for, and found, one another genetically. When you both released the rawest form of yourselves, your patroni, your magic took matters into its own hands, so to speak. A union took place. A language of spells, unknown to anyone at Gringotts, began writing itself on your betrothal parchments. No one there can read it, though they promised to find experts who'll try."

He gave Harry a moment to let this sink in, before adding. "It's as if your magic took one look at Draco and set up its own barrier around him. I don't know what this means in terms of a practical marriage, but as far as I'm concerned, you have stolen the privilege of my son's hand. Those documents will not accept any other wizard in your place. So if you intend to be any kind of a husband to my son, you'd better be ready to take your duties seriously. You've left him with no other choice."

Harry was waiting for it all to make sense. When it didn't, he begged logic from his father. "I don't understand. I still have to prove myself to Draco. He doesn't want me. How can our magic override that basic fact? How can a marriage be recognized between two unwilling parties? I mean, I'm willing, but I thought I'd have more time."

James struggled to come up with answers. He had none. "Don't worry, we're going to figure this out. This changes nothing. Evidently, your meeting has triggered dormant strains of magic that we don't fully understand. We'll do some research, stick to dates that will allow you two to get to know each other, and legally navigate around obsolete magic if we have to."

Harry looked hopeful, but Lucius destroyed it in the next second. "Sir, there will no doubt be penalties against dissuading such spells. Any magic that old, is going to have a blatant disregard for modern morals and ethics. The magic wants what it wants. Before upsetting the balance and promising your son a happy-ever-after, you might want to discover what legalities will be challenged if this night passes without full recognition that it is their wedding night."

James's glasses were starting to steam from the heat rising out of his collar. He lost it. "You idiot!" He lunged, grabbing Lucius's lapels and shaking him. Sirius leapt on the table, taking the shortest route to stop him. Remus held himself back, not adverse to James inflicting a little damage before he had to help Sirius pull him off. Both wizards had wands they weren't using, which told everyone they were just blowing off steam. The two fathers had probably had about all they could take of one another, and since there was no chance of blowing things for their sons now, why not relieve a little stress?

In that ridiculous display of blond hair and thrashing fists, they turned too late to see Narcissa's tearful exit. She strode, giving her husband one twist of dagger eyes, before heading back to her son. Harry saw her intention in her silent communication to Lucius. 'I'm getting our son and leaving this place before that fucking contract can do anymore damage.'

He practically heard her speak it. For an elegant woman, she could go from zero to bitch in a second. He got up and ran after her, but not before Lucius, leaving strands hanging from James's clenched fists, followed.

Part of Harry wanted them to understand that his magic meant no harm. He fully intended to let Draco leave tonight and have the freedom to decide if he wanted to be with him. But he remembered the dream-like vision he shared with Draco, and also suspected that this new development had its place. What if Mr. Malfoy was right? What if he let them take Draco out of here, and there were repercussions to doing so? Drawbacks that ruined his chances forever. None of them knew what they were dealing with. Maybe he could talk her into not upsetting the balance. At least not until they knew what the hell was going on. He couldn't just let her take Draco out of there.

His relatives were still lined up outside the bathroom door, and Mother Potter was telling Draco the story of her betrothal.

"And he was so handsome, our parents didn't dare turn their backs on us for the entire eight weeks. Lucky for us, we knew extension charms and we cast them under the table." She snickered as if no one else but the two of them could hear her confession.

Amid rolling eyes, and shaking heads, Narcissa's slender body threatened to come out of its dress coat and leave it behind when people couldn't get out of her way fast enough. Her tone was viscious.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You've been in there long enough. We are going home." Her words snapped with militant precision. People shrank back from the mere ugliness in her force of attitude. When Lucius reached for her arm to calm her, she drew her wand with a deftness as sure as any gunslinger. He drew back.

"I'm giving you to three, or this door comes down!"

Harry's chest deflated. There was no fixing this. Behind him, his parents and their friends crowded into the corridor. Beside him, his Gamy's smile was wry and sad for him, but brimming with self-contained entertainment. _It's what family does_, she seemed to speak into his mind.

He looked into her world-weary eyes and heard perfectly, _Go get your husband. Only you can get him out of that bathroom without trashing my home._

Narcissa's angry count down had reached 'one'.

Harry stretched his body past his uncles, to get her attention. "No! Please don't."

She paused, turning red, swollen eyes to him. "He's leaving this house with me."

He could see that the news had inspired her worst fears to come forward. Whatever she thought he was going to do, he had to reassure her that he wasn't.

Harry held up his hands to let her know he wasn't going to argue with her. "I'm all for that. But blasting him out of there, maybe isn't the best way to get him to relax."

"I don't see you being very helpful."

He stammered. "I'm just as much in shock as you. I didn't know this could happen. Best case scenario, we get Draco out of there. Worst case scenario, we open our guest house to you and try to make you and your husband as comfortable as possible so that you don't have to leave him."

Her chest heaved. "Nothing could make me leave without him."

"Mrs. Malfoy, that wasn't a challenge. Look, you're just as upset as he is. Let's try something no one has given a chance yet."

Her distrust was incredulous. "Like what?"

He licked his dry lips. "Like everyone getting out of this hallway and letting me see if I can talk to him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're not his husband. I don't care what the documents say. There can't be anything legal about forcing my son's hand. If your magic is that selfish, I can't leave Draco with you."

"You can let an elf watch us. You have my word that this is not how I want to start off my marriage. Not by upsetting him."

Harry pretended the gasps behind him meant nothing.

Narcissa remained unconvinced. She and Lucius regarded Harry with the same accusing sobriety, as if he were the sole wizard responsible for leading them into a trap.

Gamy Evans, leaning quietly behind Harry, pushed herself up on her cane and told them, "These two need to work out their own problems. It won't be a marriage till they can be trusted to do that. You don't learn that from courtship."

It was spoken like a seventy-two year old witch who didn't have anything else to lose, who wasn't concerned with anyone liking her, and possessed so much life experience that her tone reeked of boredom with their petty grievances. She turned to go. Harry watched her.

In truth, his mother's mother was much older than seventy-two, but she did not like to reveal her witch age. She went by her muggle age, which was easier for people to believe. She was by no means a stooped hag. Her body and mind were still sharp, and she kept a practical wardrobe of dramatic black to accentuate the broaches and jewels given to her over a lifetime by her late husband.

She kept her hair spelled a rich wine color and Harry had only ever seen it down a handful of times in his life. It came to the backs of her knees and required magic to hold its form when she did it up. He could remember being small enough to hide in it when his father pretended he couldn't find him. The cane helped her knees, which, stories say she ruined in her youth by using her body to save a muggle neighbor's child. The little boy was severely mentally handicapped and she was the only one to see him knock the car out of gear. It was parked up the street a ways, on a downhill slope. She'd left her wand inside, simply to run out and get the paper. She ended up jumping out of her slippers, her bare feet hit the asphalt and she was able to grab the car before momentum got hold of it. She used magic, but she used her legs as well. The car drug her twenty feet before it stopped.

She lost the skin on her legs and her joints reverted back to their arthritic state no matter what magic was used, but to this day, she is revered by that boy's family, by the witnesses, and both muggle and wizard communities as being a pillar of character and an exemplary witch.

Without saying as much, she'd basically told them they were being ridiculous for being upset about anything between the boys.

Narcissa's pride wasn't going to let her have the last word. "That's easy for you to say, he's not your son. You weren't tricked."

Harry's eyes grew large. He saw his Gamy stop. She turned slowly. He stepped away from Narcissa so as not to be caught in any crossfire. His grandmother was so confident, she only kept her wand with her when she needed to leave the house. He knew there were pins in her hair that could get any magic she needed done, accomplished just fine.

"Mrs. Malfoy, no one tricked you. You came here for a marriage. You pushed that child into it, and that's exactly what you got. You used your son to go after Harry's magic, knowing full well that it was old and potent. Where I come from, any witch knows that means lawless. That's why you sought it. You made that boy come here without asking yourselves what that magic might do. Be glad that it accepted him. He's family now. Like it or not, you're family now. It may not be a perfect wedding day, but the magic has given absolutely everyone what they claim to have come here wanting."

Her blunt honesty appeared to knock the wind out of Narcissa, whose mouth gaped.

Gamy added before turning, "Dinner will be ready in another hour. You're welcome to stay. Show your boy what family is, by example."

To Harry, she was his champion. He didn't need an explanation for why she didn't seem surprised that his marriage was already legit. With the soft tap of her cane, she herded the rest of the group down the hall, leaving the Malfoys to weigh their options.

Part of Harry wanted to look away from the effects of their chastisement. And part of him didn't want to miss it. While his Gamy hadn't said that they got what they deserved because of their greed for magic, she'd made it obvious none the less. He let his eyes stray upwards, to the bitter pill they were now swallowing in private.

To be such an externally motivated couple, their marriage obviously shaped by money and magic, they looked at each other with a very intimate language. With strained eyes and unmoving lips, they spoke their concerns to one another. Harry sensed fear and regret. He felt Narcissa's panic, and Lucius's failure to soothe it. To be the best dressed wizards in the house, they looked the most vulnerable at the moment. Harry knew what they were thinking. They put up shields to keep the world from seeing their weaknesses, but when they looked at each other, they bared their souls. What had they done to their son?

He had enough. Not sure where it was coming from, he stepped forward with all the diplomacy of an ambassador. He decided that if they played nice, he could fake it for one evening.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." They looked at him like the intruder into their family unit that he was. He didn't let it stop him.

"I promise you that Draco will leave here with you. Like my dad says, this has been the craziest day ever, and in my mind, I still have to prove myself to Draco. Nobody planned this. Nobody knew this could happen, and I'm sorry everyone got this shock. The only thing I can do now, is talk to Draco. Not like he's property, but like he has the freedom to walk out of here if I'm not saying things that please him, because he does. With that in mind, may I please have a moment to talk to him in private? By all means, use your house elves, just let me have some time with him before people start trying to drag us off to dinner. This really is about making sure he's okay."

Harry didn't think they were ever going to leave. It helped when his parents showed up, waiting at the end of the hall and beckoned for the Malfoys to join them. With downcast eyes, Narcissa let her husband usher her down the hall.

***  
Note: I hope to have another, smaller update, this evening or sometime in the A.M., if all goes well.

Top stories from this writer

New House (This can be enjoyed as a stand alone, or as chapter 3 of A Wedding)

Notes: *Note: I've learned that my stories never really end. Even if I mark a chapter complete, inspiration could have me adding to it.


	4. Wedding Night

Chapter 4: Wedding Night

Summary: Harry and Draco try to communicate.

* * *

Harry waited untill everyone's footsteps sounded far away. Then he pressed close to the door. It was cool against his ear. On the other side of it, he heard nothing. He lowered his voice.

"Draco, they're gone now. We're alone. Not even an elf to spy on us."

He omitted saying that everyone was so upset, they forgot to leave a chaperon. He wasn't sure how much Draco had heard of the latest news.

"I haven't heard any glass break, so I'm pretty sure you haven't gone through the window."

He thought he heard a creek, like weight shifting.

"There's no Valium in those cakes. We stopped letting Mother Potter take it years ago. We falsify her prescriptions. Now you know one of our family secrets. I'd love to hear one of yours."

Nothing.

He didn't really expect Draco to come around this easily, but he expected himself to have as much patience as it took to convince him he was a friend, not a foe. His only job at this point, was to try to break the ice.

"I really liked your dragon. I've never seen anything like it."

Something, like interest, pulled on him. "I wasn't trying to hurt you or anything. When I took in that fire, I was trying to understand your magic. I was trying to get inside it and experience it."

He felt he might as well say the rest of it. "You were in pain. I don't think you meant to show me that, but I saw it. I wasn't trying to extinguish your fire, just take away some of the heat. That's a lot of rage, and I was sure that it's not who you are."

He didn't want to be presumptuous, but it couldn't hurt to let Draco know that they'd connected on some level. While he didn't know all the details of what was going on in Draco's life, he knew anguish when he felt it. And Draco had too much.

"My patronus drew the hurt out of you. It tried to. I tried to. I didn't mean to drain you or to upset you in front of your parents."

Five minutes passed in silence before he trusted himself to keep talking.  
"Just let me hear your voice. Let me know you're not passed out in there or something. You looked pretty shaken."

Frustration caused him to bite down on his lip. "This sucks."

He said it more to himself than anyone, and added, "Not you. Me. I should've met you a long time ago. I should've been open to my parent's suggestions. Then I'd know what to say to you. I'd know what matters to you. I'd get you to trust that all I want is for you to feel comfortable around me. Safe. Your parents raised you to expect that everyone would want something from you. I wonder if you even realize that people must want to meet you just because you seem amazing, not because you have anything to give them."

Harry swallowed. His legs were getting stiff and his neck and shoulders uncomfortable from being contorted to listen for any response from Draco.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? If you just want to leave, I can let… I can show you out. You're free to go home if you want. Our bathroom can only provide so much entertainment."

"You don't know anything about my parents."

Harry's head shot up. "What?"

Draco's voice sounded hoarse. "I said, you don't know anything about my parents. So don't act like you understand them, or what they're asking. Don't judge them. Besides, you do expect something of me, just like everyone else, so don't bother being chummy with me. All of you want a job done. That's how I look at it."

Harry could hear his voice shaking. "Listen, all that nonsense about heirs and duty can get tossed out the window. None of it matters if it's not what you want. I could pay someone to get knocked up for me. Muggles do it all the time. If this was just about bloodlines and property, you could sell your genetic material to me and some doctor would charge us a bloody fortune to whip up the perfect baby in a petri dish. You've got to realize that I don't give a damn about what I can get from you in terms of power. The only thing I want from you right now, is your friendship. My parents became friends before they fell in love. They were stuck with each other, but they gave each other a shot. If you never have my kid, if we never like each other enough to feel close, give us a chance to be friends. No strings attached."

Even though Draco was silent, for some reason he got an image of his down-curved lips sulking on the prospect of answering Harry.

He tried a different tactic. "What are you feeling right now? I can't know if you don't tell me. You obviously don't like it here, you're the one who's locked yourself in. What do you think is possibly going to happen if you came out and sat with my family for dinner?"

He didn't have to see Draco to feel him recoil. Too much too soon. "Forget I said that. Just put your feelings into words. My mother says if you can do that, you can work through anything."

Just when he thought he'd lost Draco, the other said, "I never wanted to get married, not when I realized what it meant for me."

So Draco hadn't heard about Gringott's findings. He sounded closer to the door. That was encouraging, as if he wanted to make it easier for Harry to hear him.

"Go on."

A long heavy sigh. Sniffs. "My father won't hear of using those Muggle technologies. He says the magic will be diluted, distorted. The cells have to divide inside of my body."

Harry wanted to rush to the quick. He wanted to say, 'A marriage to me, means that you'll never have to hear your father nag at you again. I'll protect you from it. I'll keep him away from you.' But he knew he couldn't promise that.

"I can't put myself through that." Draco's voice trailed off. He sounded like he was talking through his hands. "Nobody knows what that does."

Harry was pretty sure that a lot of people, particularly mothers, knew what it did, but he wasn't stupid enough to interrupt. He sensed that Draco couldn't find the right words for what he felt. The question he really wanted to ask Draco, had to be suppressed. Feelings first, his mother always said. They can't be shoved under the carpet like they don't matter, no matter how silly they might seem. They hide the problem. Get those out of the way, then logic can set in, but not before. 'It's a balance, Harry. It takes both reason and emotion to solve human problems. We're not robots. Talk to me, and tell me what you're feeling.'

His mother had used the trick on him many times, while his father joked around the issue of emotions.

"I lied to you," Draco confessed.

Harry listened for the pattern of his breathing. They hinted that he might be crying and talking at the same time.

"There was someone in my life. But that's been over for years. I cling to it. It ruined me. I keep my hatred for him alive. It's useful, for when I want to reject an arrangement. I don't even… I don't even have to fake it."

Harry waited, practically holding his breath.

"Most people feel the nastiness, the pure sickness of that vibe rolling off of me, and stay away. But you, you came at me harder. I tried to warn you that I'm damaged. I have nothing to offer a relationship, not even my body, but you wouldn't take the hint. Now I'm telling you things I promised myself I wouldn't tell anyone, and I don't know why..."

This time, there was no doubt of his sobs. The first of them were loud and open before he choked them back. "Harry. I fucking hate you. You're doing this to me."

"I swear, I'm not." Every sound Draco made, sent shocks of guilt into Harry. They were just normal sobs, but with being accused of causing them, Harry's mind showed him images of Draco struggling to remove steel rods from his gut, put there by whatever insensitive thing Harry had done to him. He winced with the least little strain from the other side of the door.

"Draco, are you saying there is no other guy?"

Sniffing. "Not the way I said. Not currently, but he's the reason I can't get married."

It was like trying not to crack a hollow eggshell. "What did he do?"

"I'm sick, Harry. He made me sick."

Harry's heart stopped. "How?"

"Please don't ask me. You did something in that room. With your magic. You took something from me, and now I can't lie to you. Please let me keep my secrets. They're all I have. I'll kill myself if I have to tell anyone what I did."

Harry could hear his mother's voice insisting that he gain trust first, ask questions later. But if Draco was sick, that presented seriously dark avenues that he needed to rule out as soon as possible. If Draco was sick, he had to get him help. His instincts sent him terrifying possibilities, all of which he had to rule out because wizards didn't typically get sick the way muggles did. Being a pureblood, surely Draco's magic afforded him immunity against the most alarming diseases. He tried to be content with knowing this, but he knew it was going to eat at him like acid if he didn't get it out of the way.

"Do you have a venereal disease?" The question sounded as stupid out loud as it had in his head, but he had to ask. Wizards conquered those long ago, and only a masterful spell-crafter could cause problems for another person that way.

Expecting retaliation, he shrank from the sound of Draco's hard-soled shoes kicking the door. The kicks were loud, tantrumesque, and brusque, as if aimed directly for Harry's ear.

Draco said, "That's me kicking some sense into your arrogant, over sized skull. I'm a wizard. No muggle disease is going to take me out."

"Oh my god! Draco, I'm trying to understand. Your words were very dramatic. You said you were sick."

"Forget it. Forget I said anything." Idiot.

He hadn't called Harry an idiot out loud, but Harry heard it. His folly cost them another ten minutes of silence as Harry figured out which road to take. There was a tremendous amount of pride on the other side of that door, and apparently it could stare suicide in the face better than it could withstand the idea of a disease. Judging from the kicks on the door, he was now persuaded to think his husband was just the dramatic type, instead of the tragic type. But he couldn't be sure.

He dared to break the silence. "If you're sick, I'm not going to be able to think of anything else until you tell me what's wrong." Surely Draco could understand this. His ears were still ringing from those kicks. "Is that why you didn't want to undergo any tests?"

Relenting, "I'm not physically sick. Mentally. I didn't graduate from the conservatory. I was thrown out. Legally, they had to give me credit for the classes, but my name was erased from their honors program. I attacked a teacher. I stabbed him with his own wand four times before they got it from me. Instead of jail time, I spent over a year in a psychiatric hospital. I thought I could start over again in America, but as soon as I auditioned for Julliard, the judges recognized me. They didn't have my records, but I knew it was a matter of time before I'd be expected to comment on why I'd jeopardized an entire career, not to mention millions of dollars in funding, for a program that would enable any kid to close their eyes and learn music by pure sound. It only took five seconds for me to stab that man, and it's taking the rest of my life to get over my reasons for doing it. If that isn't sick, I don't know what is."

"… "

Draco added, "He's perfectly fine, by the way. I wouldn't be talking to you if he wasn't. But I'll never be the same. I found work in Japan, where Sound Resonance is seen as a legitimate Musical Therapy. I don't go near the patients. I compose music based on their individual brain waves. When they listen back, their brains are entrained with normal patterns instead of the jumbled signals of their psychosis. My father won't hear of me going into the medical field, especially the muggle one, yet I've done so. I've ruined my chances to become a professional therapist, a doctor. But I can still make a difference. I just can't go back to that place that put me in that hospital. I can't let anybody, not even you, make me put my body through that. I won't survive it."

So much information had just whizzed by Harry's comprehension, that he was only able to hold on to the two most important impressions. Draco had seriously tried to kill someone, and Draco was a fucking genius, operating on a level of creativity that had more to offer the world than any athletic enhancement bracelet he would ever make. So, crazy, but brilliant-crazy. And so very very angry.

He remembered the dragon patronus, and standing in the core of it's green flame. Had he known this story, he wondered if he could've pulled more information from Draco's magic while he'd had access to it. Why would a wizard choose to turn a wand into a muggle weapon instead of using it the way it was meant to be used? And what did that hospital have to do with marriage to Harry?

Knowing full well, these were leaps that he didn't have enough faith in to try, he took the easiest road available to him. "What did he do to you, that teacher?"

The crime that Draco described, had Harry imagining the worst. This is where Draco's voice dropped, as if he'd suddenly missed a step. All confidence gone. Harry had to strain his hearing, pressing the cartilage of his ear as flat as it would go against the door.

You don't make excuses for attempted murder, but Draco's intelligence conveyed that it had not been a senseless act. It was the act of someone who could not live a minute longer under some pressure, some injustice. Harry helped him. "Did he… Did he assault you? Is that why you attacked him?"

He heard quite firmly. "Absolutely not."

Relieved, Harry closed his eyes. That kind of trauma would've introduced worlds of difficulty into his marriage.

"Everyone thought that. He just… I loved him. I betrayed my father's trust for him. We were lovers. I couldn't believe it when you pointed that out, like you could smell him on me. That was five years ago. I slept with him because he swore he needed me by his side. I thought we were married in secret, until I uncovered the fact that the whole thing was a sham and that's what he did to hoard luxury gifts and money from his various… partners."

Harry was careful not to interrupt the flow of information.

"I risked my family's entire heritage and stake on magic, for that bastard. For love. The idea of marriage disgusts me. The idea of laying in anyone's arms and learning to trust every word out of their mouth again, makes me want to put a spike gun to my head and attach the trigger to an automated, programmable robot finger that can reload and fire twenty times faster than visually observable."

Damn.

"What has a year in a Swiss psych ward got to do with our marriage? Everything. Don't put me back there. Don't make me want something that's impossible for another person to live up to. You may not be impressed with my parents, but their love is real. They're life-bonded and it's unmatched. And even they want to kill each other sometimes. You can't ask me to go through that. I gave that bastard everything. All of me, and he trashed it. I wanted his guts to burn and ooze out of his body the way mine were. Death would've been too kind for him."

There were no tears now. Just stilted silence. Harry's ear wasn't pressed quite so hard against the door. He'd heard most of what he needed to. He let the tension out of his neck and shoulders. He'd been waiting for something that would destroy his hope. He'd braced for it. He hadn't heard it.

If a broken heart was the worst hurdle he had to help his husband overcome, he felt pretty sure that was a win and not a loss. The fact that Draco could hurt for so long and so hard over another person, told him that he was a bottomless well of emotion. And therein, had to flow love. He wasn't frigid. He wasn't as cold and unmoved by life as his family promoted themselves. He was angry and vulnerable, and ripe for any love Harry could show him. He would deny it, but anyone capable of feeling that much, had a heart as big as the horizon. All that power, mistreated, turns in on itself and distorts everything it feels in an effort not to feel that much pain again. Harry decided that he had the makings of a great marriage. If he concentrated on fixing the foundation of this devastated mansion, then he'd have a structure worth building a life on.

Draco was sane, just defeated. Temporarily defeated by his own emotions.

Harry slid to the floor. He couldn't hold Draco, and was pretty sure the other wouldn't want him to. But he put his hand to the wood and pressed his love through to the other side anyway. They sat like that for a while. They couldn't see each other through the division. But their magic could. Their union did. It recorded Draco's head leaning into the door frame, his long legs stretched out on marbleized tiles before him, and his back supported by a sink cabinet. On the other side of the barrier, Harry sat facing him, though he didn't know it. Their shoulders connected with the door, completing their only point of circuitry and contact with one another.

The dinner hour came and went. No one asked them to join. The Malfoys only made a brief appearance, stopping down the hall and conversing in hushed voices. Harry hoped the weariness on his face told them everything they needed to know. He was still trying to get Draco out. He wasn't giving up. But that was a lie. He was no longer interested in talking Draco into coming out. He wanted to go in. Join him, and leave his family to whatever they decided. That had nothing to do with him. His place was right here.

When his mother showed up and asked if she could get them anything, he requested pillows and blankets. A set for him and a set for Draco. The Malfoy house elf got them through the door.

They both knew there was more to Draco's story, but Harry had heard enough to keep him busy reflecting on Draco's life for one night. Besides, Draco's silence held a different message now. He had to accept, and make peace with, the fact that Harry now knew his deepest secret. If that wasn't something they could build trust on, what was? Harry wondered if it was an unconscious test, that Draco had revealed so much.

Draco had, very late in the day, set a task for him to prove his worthiness, and it wasn't just the ability to sleep outside the bathroom door. It was the ability to keep a secret.

Sitting upright, with their heads resting on pillows, though neither saw the other against the door frame that supported them both, Harry asked,

"Draco, what happened to the baby."

Draco hesitated too long. "What?"

"You said you were lovers. You and this teacher. Today, your father said your body was intended to get pregnant with the first man you had sex with, to ensure offspring. So where's the baby?"

The question was not intended to be cruel. And he knew that Draco would not provide him with an answer. But he was going to have to come up with one. He would have all night, if not the past five years, to decide if he was going to tell Harry the truth.

It took some doing, but Lily and her temporary maid got the Malfoys settled in the guest house. Lily stood at her bedroom curtains, watching as every light in the extra living quarters remained on at 4 AM. Nobody, it seemed was going to sleep tonight. She looked back at the bed. James's glasses were slid to one side of his face and his open mouth drooled as he snored. She took off her house slipper and threw it at him. He startled awake. Square hands raked over his face, knocking his glasses between the pillows.

He yawned. "What, honey?"

"I said, no one is going to sleep tonight. No one with any sense."

He groaned. "What time is it? You can't possibly think that staring out that window is any more productive than getting some sleep. The boys are fine. The Malfoys are… outside our immediate enclosure. We've done all we can do. Come to bed."

She folded her arms and frowned. "James, technically, this is our son's wedding night. It's the biggest disaster in the history of disasters. Mother says the marriage isn't cursed, but I can't help feeling like it is. I just want to find an expert, someone who can tell us something. We're holding that boy hostage!"

He laughed and patted the bed. "All right. It's official. Delirium as set in. As your husband, it's my job to get you in this bed at all costs."

"Don't laugh at me. You know as well as I do, if Harry hadn't convinced him to sleep in that bathroom, we'd all be piled up on the Malfoy lawn just to keep them together tonight. None of us want to risk whatever nuptual evil that document wrote into their union. None of us know what we're dealing with."

"The magic knows," James said simply. "You trust your own magic, don't you? You trust Harry. Put them together and trust this."

That did it. "How can you use logic at a time like this?"

He didn't answer. It had to be a trick question. "Ummm…"

"You know what I mean. Don't be so unfeeling. Our son will never have another wedding night. He's missing out on a great life because we brought this situation into our home. What have we doomed him to?"

He risked turning his back on her and searching for his glasses. "Absolutely nothing but the chance to make his marriage what he wants it to be. So it's off to a rocky start. So, what. There's nothing he can't do tonight, that he won't be able to do on a thousand other nights."

Even before he put his glasses back on, he knew that had come out wrong. The crease in her brow said 'Damn right it did.'

"Look, you're making me crazy. I refuse to try to reason with you halfway across the room. Come lay beside me, calm down, and we'll talk."

"My body doesn't want to lay still. It wants to kick somebody in the balls for this."

"Well whose balls are you going to kick? Come lay beside me, we'll figure it out, and I'll hold 'em while you take aim."

He was just going to patronize her till she got in bed. Instead of lying down, she sat on her knees and put her fist under her chin. "Do you want to at least want to discuss our new son-in-law?"

"Nope." He grabbed a bedside book he hadn't read in weeks and pretended to thumb through the pages.

"I know what your first impression was. It's the same as mine. Smart, spoiled, resentful, blah blah blah. But what do you really think is going on in his head?"

"Lily, don't do this to yourself. Since I don't have a ringside seat in the kid's head, I'm not going to comment. That way, when he does go ape-shit and finally kills his parents, we can say that we honestly gave him a chance and tried to love him. We were too late to save him from that kind of crazy."

He made her laugh. She struck him for it. Knowing her bony fist couldn't do the damage she wanted, she hit him extra hard. "I'm trying to be serious."

"Frankly, that's exactly what I want to avoid. Rest and 'serious' do not go well together."

She realized she had to resort to drastic measures to keep him attentive. She unbent her legs, lifted her gown, and sat on his lap. "I really need your attention right now."

"I'm awake." He smiled.

It didn't make up for the 'thousand other nights' comment that implied something to be desired in their domestic routine, and there were still layers of blanket and clothing between them, but it made the moment so much more interesting.

"I think Draco needs help. Professional help."

"Here we go."

"They've done something to that boy. Nobody should look that perfect. It's not natural. And don't you think he's too old to be carrying around that kind of resentment towards them? I get that they haven't allowed him much freedom, but he's old enough to stand up to them. Harry sure as hell stood up to us. I'm just saying, something's wound a little tighter than it should be. Than it's healthy to be. His massive patronus practically spelled that out."

"Just what we need. Another son for you to overreact about."

"We have to face the obvious. Something is wrong. I want to suggest counseling for him. Professional therapy."

"The Malfoys are going to love that."

"You saw how big is patronus was. The Malfoys were impressed. They don't have sense enough to realize that he's given all his power to a childhood pet. He probably had a stuffed animal. He probably loved it and fed it his energy imaginatively."

James made a face. "Judging by their money, I'd say he actually had a fucking pet dragon."

"No, he's transferred his anger at them, to his personal monster. That's something children do. Very disturbed children."

"Honey, we can't fix him. Harry chose him, and we just have to stand behind Harry. That means accepting whatever messed up wizard he's attached himself to."

"You're joking, but this is real. He's our son now. I want to know his entire story. I want to know what they did to him. Nobody, and I repeat, nobody, should be locked in a bathroom on their wedding night, with their husband camped out on the other side of the door, of their own free will. I would've torn that door down on my wedding night. It's the one time a girl can hold a throbbing cock in her hand and feel the love and support of her whole family behind her. The rest of the time, she's just sneaking around, risking gossip and disgrace."

"Really? Are you sure you're not projecting your personal experience onto Draco's… shortcomings?"

He couldn't help it. He grinned.

She ignored him. "I was thrilled beyond reason on my wedding night. Finally, we didn't have to hide it anymore. Nothing felt more liberating than wrapping my fingers around you and controlling everything you felt. Draco has that opportunity right now, and no one deserves liberation more than him. Not with parents like that. I was so excited, my mother gave me pointers on how to hold it. I couldn't tell her that I already knew what I was doing."

"Gamy, talked to you about holding my-"

"She was very approving."

"Was she? You can hold it right now if you want to."

"I'm serious. Draco should be excited, as long as he's held back for his family. Not crying. Not locked out of reach from his husband. Something's wrong. We need to get to the bottom of this so we can help that boy. Harry's already made up his mind."

"Boy, did he make up his mind."

"Maybe it's a trust thing. Maybe all this consumation talk upsets him. There is a lot of pressure on him to have a baby."

"No more than the pressure on my son to make one."

"If we got him therapy, he'd at least be able to open up about it."

"If he were an actual kid, I'd say go for it. But he's an adult and he doesn't have to listen to a word we say."

"We can still encourage him. Find some contacts. I'm not saying we can make it happen all at once, but he's family now and it would give me tremendous comfort to think we can ease him into a place where he feels he can discuss things. Open up."

James opened his mouth to respond, but musical notes stopped him. They trickled, like auditory drops of dancing magic, into their bedroom. In the next second, they realized the music was not only coming from downstairs, but it was also playing over the external sound system. Set up for garden parties and birthday celebrations, it was infrequently used. Their first thought was that the Malfoys had pressed the wrong button on the console built into the master bedroom of the extra bungalow. But no, a tri-panaled, Japanese illustration concealed the console and one had to know the right combination of touches to unlock it.

The Potters seldom hosted events that made large-scale partying the norm, but the sound system was a luxury that couldn't be topped on the days when Gamy listened to her opera by the pool, or Lily tended to her shrubs. It rendered all the world into a theater, tailored to whatever private tastes programmed it. As they stared at one another, every room in their house, and every inch of their property, was drenched in dramatic, burgeoning melodies that corresponded to the keys on a piano.

They slipped on their shoes, dashing from the bedroom. The master console was in the den, and they nearly tripped over one another when they saw Harry standing in front of it.

Still wearing the suit he wore to the meeting, he didn't look up at them. Along the walls, the television screens had been activated. There were two on each wall, oversized so that everyone at their get-togethers could see the New Year's ball drop, watch the fight, or just pick themselves out of the crowd when the Potters decided to play hosts. Shortly after graduating, Harry had persuaded his father into making the investment as a growth incentive for the business, what with needing to smoosh associates and all. What he didn't tell his father, was that a showy entertainment room was a great way to entertain friends. The screens were often off, when a normal television served them just as practically. But tonight, Harry remembered how to send a Bluetooth signal from his smart phone, to the Wifi in the console. The screens were alight with footage that switched between a stage and a classroom.

Lily couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. There were kids, very young children talking over the music. An interview was being conducted in edited pieces while the camera switch back and forth to a concert hall, then back to a solitary figure playing to an empty auditorium.

"Harry, what is this?" She was more concerned with disturbing everyone in the house and outside of it, especially the Malfoys. They didn't need anymore convincing that her son was strange and not to be trusted.

Harry answered her by way of looking up from his phone and staring at the screen ahead of him.  
James was the first to get it. "Harry, is that Draco?"

Harry smiled. On all eight screens surrounding them, Draco's smile lit the room. It was a side of him they would never have seen if Harry hadn't found it based on the information Draco had given him.

"It's his school. In Switzerland. I found it in the archives of their academic website. It's a documentary. All about him. He taught two hundred blind kids how to play piano in just under a month, by watching their brains react to sound and stimulating their attention spans. He found their peak level of concentration and created a musical algorithm that boosted their learning. He patented his method. He named it Direct Retention Attainment for Goal-Oriented Nurturing. DRAGON."

He beamed as he saw understanding coming into their eyes. "The school is fighting him for rights, but they've already documented that he was the one to come up with the technique. No wonder Draco doesn't get along with his parents, or probably anyone. He's a genius. My husband is a creative genius."

He turned back to the screen. His glasses went opaque with images of Draco walking across a manicured campus, being followed by a film crew and ten grade-school children. Elderly teachers discussed Draco as a student, and what it was like to watch him develop his talents. Draco, seated in a large stadium hall, talking to his audience about his methods, between bursts of energetic demonstrations. He played conversationally, with his body facing the audience and his hands trailing over the keys as effortlessly as an afterthought.

The documentary was in German, but Lily caught some of it from the subtitles below. And finally, Draco in formal attire, hair plastered back from his face, as he treated Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D Minor, with the most respect and reverence he could give it. He was featured, not because of his skill, but because of his innovation.

The filmmakers decided to juxtapose concert footage, with the same score played in a different setting. A classroom, with him wearing jeans, a Trans Siberian Orchestra T-shirt, and a mess of glowing white hair consuming all the light in the room. Eyes closed, head bowed, his hands demonstrated an emotional intelligence that gave him full range of an inner language that held his audience transfixed. His forearms, his wrists and hands, were beautiful, and appeared made to bend to the will of the music. It played him as much as he played it. If Harry hadn't been so proud of what he was seeing, he would've blushed to see it in the presence of his parents.

Far from the block of ice his father exemplified, Draco's body leaned into the notes like a lover who could not be parted from them. He was pure feeling and Harry's face went hot watching him. This. This was asleep on his bathroom floor right this very moment. That fiasco was beginning to feel less of a source of shame on his part, and more of a triumph. That was his husband. And even though this was a low budget, student documentary, it was an effective one. Draco's smile glowed for the camera. His eyes shined, and his confidence embraced his role as an enigmatic musician with the ability to help others reach their potential through music.

Lily and James were assaulted by positive images of Draco, and left standing at a loss when the credits stopped rolling. Seeing an entire culture taking the boy seriously enough to sit quietly in his audience, and reflect thoughtfully on his methods, reduced them to speechlessness.

The dreams drifting across Harry's eyes were almost as disturbing. His smile extended, as if he'd just thought of the perfect solution to all their troubles. His nod was final, and mostly to himself. He looked at them.

"We have to get a piano. He won't feel at home here, till we do. We have to get the best they make."

He turned back to the screen and restarted the documentary. His parents were very careful to back out of the room so that he didn't notice their escape. If another part of the world, a whole hemisphere, thought Draco deserved the attention lavished upon him by the academicians, researchers, and professionals lined up in those interviews, then maybe they needed to reconsider their previous conversation.


	5. Together

Draco's ass hurt. He'd used the blanket given to him, to sit on. But he'd been in one spot all night, knees drawn, and it felt like there was nothing between his bones and the hard floor. He hadn't slept, but stared at the surfaces around him, as if, given enough time, he could come up with a way out of this situation. The stained glass window had been dull in the predawn hours, when Harry started running his mouth, jerking him back to reality. Now it was bright and vivid with sun, and he held onto that light, trying to feel its comfort, but couldn't.

He wanted to ignore Harry indefinitely. He didn't have to talk if he didn't want to. He wasn't a slave, whose ownership has suddenly changed. And there was a change, he just didn't want to think about it too much. All that warm light, filtering through that colored glass, that he couldn't feel, dimmed to dullness, telling him that cloud coverage had taken over the morning. The way it had taken over his life in the last day. Who was this guy? This cannot be how things turn out. This cannot become his life. He had work to do, he couldn't settle for being someone's trophy husband.

He cut himself on his real feelings. His parents had sold him. He was too old to feel like that, too versed in their traditions, so he dropped that thought like the sharp blade that it was. This was real. This was happening. Business or not, he'd failed to get rid of the secret hope that they loved him too much to make him go through with this. They'd just exchanged him for magic. He let that sink in while Harry begged him to talk.

* * *

Harry hadn't slept all night. He was too excited to let any exhaustion matter. Even the threat of weariness, at getting Draco out of that bathroom, wasn't enough to persuade him to rest. All the mysteries of the Universe were unfolding in his house, just on the other side of that door, and he wasn't going to miss it. He refused to close his eyes until Draco was out of that bathroom and securely by his side. They didn't have to share a bed, but he needed to be able to open his eyes and see him.

By 5 AM, he had gone through all that he could find about Draco on the internet. Public archives of his Switzerland school had given him a wealth of new insight into who he was. This person, sitting in isolation on the other side of the door, who's voice he hadn't heard since the night before, was extraordinary. Draco had gone quiet. Strangely quiet. Harry could've apparated in on him, but he didn't want to seem pushy and invasive on his first night being a husband. It was simple courtesy. You don't spring in on someone in the bathroom. Especially when you've promised to give them the time they need. And the space. The last thing he'd said to Draco, stood at the forefront of his thoughts. He stood in the shadows of his hallway, and placed his forehead on the door. He waited for any sound.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he asked, "Are you asleep?"

The question, the whisper with which it was spoken, disturbed the air around him. Air, connected to Draco. In that shift, he thought he felt the other's magic inch away from him.

"I've been learning about you. What I can. You've won all kinds of awards. Your magic and your music even helped people with brain damage. If I understand it right, you replicated highly stimulated brain responses and encoded it into music for people who have blocks. They broke through their limitations. I watched two documentaries about you. About DRAGON. Direct Retention Attainment for Goal-Oriented Nurturing. Why the hell wouldn't you or your father mention that? That's a big deal."

He wasn't daunted by the silence.

"I put magic in semi-precious stones and crystals, to work with a person's unique issues, but I've never had results like yours. It's like you're using magic for what it's meant for. To really help people, not opening doors without touching them, or making a cup of tea that never runs out. I can't tell you the admiration I have for people who use their talents to carve out a better way to exist in this world."

He didn't mean to gush. Draco was probably sick of that, but as far as husbands go, he felt like he'd hit the jackpot. With an arranged marriage, things could've been so terribly different. Draco could've been all looks and no substance, angry just because he didn't know how to get what he needed from life, and taking it out on others. Angry because he couldn't, or wouldn't do, what he expected others to do for him. Harry had seen enough of that in his peer group. Eager people, told they could have and do anything they want by a visionary society, that neglected to mention detailed steps about achieving exactly how to do that. There were too many moving parts, both inside and outside of themselves. Parts society doesn't even have names for. The blunt-force methods hammered into them, don't work. It's like every individual life has to invent new answers for themselves every step of the way. Any one who tried to cling to the same spot, was in real trouble. That spot, like an escalator step, was made to be useful one moment, and made obsolete by the new cycle of energy the next moment.

It's okay if Draco was a little damaged. To Harry, the flaw was actually a little refreshing. It gave him a job to do. It made him care beyond just having a husband, and gave him a way to be useful to him. That was his ticket to proving they could have a great partnership.

"Have you thought about what I said?"

He had to be careful. His family was up, and surely lurking with good intentions. But this was still private. When he heard nothing, he said, "If you're awake, just make a noise. This is a big change for you, it's okay if you're not ready to talk."

He told himself that, anyway. This morning, his goal was to get Draco out of that bathroom, and talking.

From the other side of the door, a very still voice replied, "So you admit it. You've done something to me. I feel a change."

Oh, yeah. How to break the news gently?

"It wasn't intentional. I haven't taken anything away from you. Not even your freedom. I'd still escort you out of here right now, if that's what you wanted. I'd give you time to go home and think about it. You're not being torn from your life."

"What did you do?"

Harry tried to gauge how stable Draco's voice sounded. Could he trust that apparent calm, and tell him the truth?

"It's rare, but my magic sometimes escapes me and does what it wants. Or rather, it does what it knows I want. And I wanted you. Gringott's now recognizes our contract as complete and legitimate. Legally, we're married. But we're not married, to me, until you grant me that privilege."

He rushed to amend, "I mean, it's real to me. As far as I'm concerned, you're mine. But it can't be against your will. I intend to be fair to you."

He didn't know how to add, "But I'm not backing down, and I'm not giving you up, now that it's come to this," without sounding tyrannical and deserving of Draco's scorn.

"The only thing I ask of you right now, is to meet me halfway. Drop a few comments. Don't shut me out completely. Be willing to share the same room with me for a few hours a day, that sort of thing. We have to have some way of getting to know each other. If you just want me to be quiet and stop talking to you, I can do that for a little while, but not all day. Tolerate me, until you see that I'm not your enemy. If we focus on becoming friends, maybe there won't be so much pressure about everything else. Don't hate me, just because I saw you and wanted you, and my magic did the rest."

He waited. What he heard was almost a whisper.

"I'm so tired," Draco breathed. "Of not having my life be mine. This is a prison. I've gone from one prison to another."

"That's not true. It won't be a marriage until you say it is. You get to control that. I'm not gonna give you up, but I'm not going to push you, either."

"I excelled at school, because I believed that life was like the pull of gravity. All you had to do, to be happy, was push your abilities so hard and so passionately, that you escaped the inertia that keeps people like my parents so distracted from it. It's not that they're not happy with one another. It's that they are too competitive to see it for what it is. They trivialize it as something commoners strive for. But what they don't know is, if they didn't have excellence to hunt for sport, they'd have no happiness."

Harry listened, hoping to make sense of him.

"I made myself happy, before I met him. I haven't recovered from that, and now here you are, asking me to fill my mind up with you. Like you're just going to take up a little bit of my time. No pressure. No inconvenience. Just spit out a family, while I'm busy piecing myself together. Just tell you all my fucking secrets, because you think I owe you that. Just because you and your magic refused to take no for an answer."

"Hey!"

"Hey, nothing. To really be free of you, is to walk out of here feeling no obligation to you whatsoever. And right now, that's all I feel. I tried to apparate out. Your house wouldn't let me. Your magic is very coercive."

"Or," Harry countered, "maybe you're just very resistant. You're fighting something you have no reason to fear. I'm not lifting a finger against you. Listen, you came to me. You could've stopped it. You could've stood up to your parents. The only thing I'm guilty of, is saying yes to something I wanted, and I'm hardly going to feel guilty about that. You're the one blaming everyone else for your circumstances. Your parents, your ex boyfriend, me, everyone but you."

He gave Draco a chance to come back at him. When nothing came, he continued.

"The truth is, there's no one who could've made certain that you were where you wanted to be yesterday, instead of here, than you. But no, you had to listen to mommy and daddy and let yourself be pulled along. You had the power to stop it before it started. You. And you didn't. I get that you're so frustrated with your life, that you're not thinking clearly. That you need a good cry, a good tantrum in a rubber room, maybe. No, sorry, I didn't quite mean it like that. Just that, maybe you're here, in my home, because I can actually help you. You've been horrible to yourself. You got sidetracked from your work. You've let your parents subject you to things you could've just said, 'fuck off' about. And obviously, you've been through something so horrible, you're willing to tell me all the dark secrets you can think of, to scare me away, rather than tell me about the one that matters the most."

He paused to breathe.

"Maybe you need a husband, or something like a third parent at least. One who's got your back. Whatever caused you to not stand up for yourself, is exactly what makes it necessary for other people to think and act on your behalf. Then you blame them for making the wrong decision, when you're the only one qualified to make it. Your parents are just waiting for you to be so sure of what you want, that they need not meddle in your business. They won't be convinced until you make it clear to them that you won't tolerate another decision about your life, made by them. That's where I come in. I'm giving you the space to make your own decisions. But you've got to stop blaming other people for things you have perfect control over."

He heard a gasp. Draco's outrage sounded strangled and thick, as if he could barely talk through it.

"I don't have any control, you bastard! I was born into their contracts. I was given life, on the condition that I abide by their rules. They used magic to make me what they wanted me to be, before I took my first breath. They wanted their idea of the perfect child. You wouldn't know anything about magic like that. Yours might be old, but you've forgotten the old ways."

"Okay." Harry steadied himself. "So they asked for a perfect child, and they got one. Your service is over. Now that you're an adult, you owe them nothing. You've got to put an end to it."

"They asked for my life, my devotion, my promise to honor them. That means… "

"What does it mean?"

"It means I'll never be free."

How could he think that? "Draco, what is it that you truly want to do, that you think you can't do? You've done more with your life than most people I know. The more we talk about your parents, the more we get distracted from your happiness. I won't help you to blame them. But I will help you do whatever it is you think they're keeping you from."

"You can't help me. No one can help me."

There it was. The ultimate epitaph. Said just before people made the worst decisions they could make. Harry tried to recall if there were any sharp objects in the bathroom. There were certainly no medications. His husband was going to be a handful. He was up for the challenge. The guy's life had just changed, he was allowed some coping fails.

Before he could think of anything else to say, Draco murmured through the door, "It's not what I want to do, it's what I don't want to do."

"Which is?"

"You're so goddamn clever, figure it out."

It takes Harry a minute. "Is it what I think it is?"

"Don't fucking say it. Don't."

"You don't want to be held to a contract that makes you have a baby."

He heard a groan, as if it hurt Draco to have the words pulled from his mind.

"I'm a male wizard. Just because it's possible, doesn't mean I should do it. I'm not a nurturer and the idea disgusts me. You try having a kid through all that emotional garbage. It's not fair to the kid or to me. But it's what they want, and my body is programmed to do it."

Confused, Harry looks around, making sure no one is in sight. He leans closer. "But Draco, you already had a baby. Right?"

He could practically feel Draco shaking his head on the other side. Denial just seemed to come with him. In any other person, Harry would've dismissed them as liars. For Draco, he made an exception. He's afraid. Intelligent people only lied when they're afraid, not because they're bad people.

Draco deflected that moment of truth. "I'm on birth control." You idiot. His tone was implicit.

Harry grimaced.

"It's formulated especially for me. It uses my magic. It's an experimental potion, and I've been taking it since all that happened with him. Kevin. I'm not sexually active, and I haven't been in five years. It's my way of guaranteeing my safety, should I ever have a weak moment. It gives me back my control."

"So you've never had a child?"

He waited. The answer took its time.

"I'll do anything to keep that from happening."

It wasn't the answer that he was looking for, but it was an answer. As honest as it rang, it didn't feel satisfying. Most people would just leave it and be happy that Draco had volunteered a little more insight. But something bothered Harry.

"Is that why you didn't want testing done? They'd find the potion in your system?"

"What is it with you and all these questions?"

"You know, if you wanted to test me… If you wanted to find out if you could trust me, a secret like that would be the perfect strategy. What I do, or don't do, with information like that, could make or break our marriage. You actually have more control than you think."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No. It's just that I feel your magic. You're saying one thing. And your magic is saying something else."

On the other side of the door, Draco flinched, looking attacked. His magic had already betrayed him once in the past twenty-four hours.

Harry continued. "Since magic doesn't use words, it's not that you're lying. It could be that you and your magic don't agree on this one subject. Disharmony. That's what I feel. You have every right to feel mixed up. I will never have to face what you're facing, so I promise to listen and set my judgments aside. Last night, you said that when you attacked your teacher, you wanted to make his guts burn like yours did. What did that mean?"

"You don't let up, do you? You've kidnapped me with your magic, and now you're demanding that I talk about the worst time in my life. You're proving yourself, all right. I can't talk about it. Ask me anything but that."

"I have to know. If there's a child out there somewhere…"

"There's not. Believe me. Don't make me relive that. Don't put me back there. Trust me when I tell you, there isn't one."

"Draco…"

"If you want me, you'll drop it."

Harry wished he could drop it. The more he felt for Draco, to understand him, the more he honed in on this uncomfortable spot. His magic was pointing there. There's the trouble, dig here.

"We have to start as honestly as we can. You know I'm not traditional, or you should by now. Did you give the baby up? I would keep that secret. I would take it to my grave. But I would investigate, just to make sure that it's safe and cared for. The past can stay in the past, but we've got to move forward with only the best intentions. Whatever you've done, we can face it together. If it came down to it, I would adopt your child."

Draco's fist hit the door and left it vibrating, throwing Harry's head back.

"Oh my God, you lunatic! How dare you talk to me like I'm some irresponsible teenage muggle? The last thing I need right now, is some attitude of superiority. Just because it could never happen to you, doesn't give you the right to interrogate me like this. My personal life is still mine. No one, not even a husband, is going to force me to talk about things that are none of his fucking business. I. Don't. Have. A. Child. You asshole!"

"Oh my God. Draco, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. If you say there's no child, there's no child. It was just too important to not make absolutely sure. I had to press. I'm done now. I promise I won't ask anymore questions today, if you come out. I'll drop it."

Too late. A loud, brittle cacophony exploded on Draco's side. There went the mirror. Judging by the growl that followed, he knew that Draco had punched it.

"Draco?"

"Go away!"

Great. He'd all but promised to get Draco out without destroying Gamy's house. Technically, the house was like a commune that belonged to everyone, but they all knew who was really running things. Without her matriarchy, they'd be a scattered assortment of family and friends. Gamy made them all want to be here. Even Remus's and Sirius's friends, wanted to be here. It was a place where the option for solitude came with knowing someone was always in the house if you needed company. If you didn't want to feel alone. Sometimes you needed the people you knew to just be there, whether you talked to them or not. The place was maintained for him, kept beautiful, private, and he was free to come and go without questions. Moving out was not a priority, and he hoped to get to the point where Draco felt like that too. But if these tantrums were going to keep up, he'd have to take Draco away from here. His energy was too conflicting with the peace Gamy had created. Their own home might be inevitable, but Harry still felt he needed his family and didn't want to have to leave just yet.

"Draco, stop that this instance! I will come in there. I've been courteous to you all this time. I'm going to have to insist that you come out."

"I will not!"

"Why!"

"You won't leave me alone. You're already so fucking needy and controlling."

Another smash, and crunching between leather soles and tiles. A dull thud bounced off the door.

"Draco." Man, to be such a pureblood, his husband was violent. Now that bit about, 'I stabbed my teacher with his wand,' was coming into greater focus. He fought down the urge to put his head in his hands, and said, "I'm coming in there. I will restrain you."

"I'd like to see you try," came another spitting growl.

It was followed by a pop so distinct, Harry could see his Gamy's porcelain soap dispenser reduced to powder as pieces of it sprayed across the floor.

It's all show, his suspicion told him. He won't stand up to his parents, he won't do anything serious. He feels he has no control. That's exactly how children behave when all their power is taken from them. He has no other out. He's never developed it. Still, what if he hurt himself? If his magic won't let him leave, then he might not be able to protect himself with it.

Another curse, another crash. That better not've been Gamy's irreplaceable Monet painting, that was given to her by the artist, himself. Magic couldn't always restore an artist's blend of colors.

He hated to be 'that husband,' but if he didn't act, Draco was going to hurt himself. Talk about having a dragon by the tail. Part of him stalled, because he knew Draco was right. He'd been unable to stop himself from pushing too hard, too soon.

To his horror, the next sound he identified, was the sound of Draco's shoe stomping the one window in there. That window had all kinds of security wards on it, and wouldn't break, but it sounded like Draco wasn't letting up. If he continued, he was going to piss the house off. Those were mostly Gamy's wards and had her temperament. She gave people a chance to do the right thing, then she struck. Draco was ten seconds from receiving an electric shock that could throw him off his feet. But if Gamy knew that he was now family, Harry couldn't be sure if the house would retaliate at all. He couldn't chance it. For all Draco's heat and anger, he still struck Harry as desperately, emotionally frail. Like, not in the best of health, no matter how good the exterior package looked. He was one strained blood vessel away from having an aneurysm.

Now who's being dramatic, he scolded himself.

Instead of forcing the door open or apparating, he used a charm to raise the vibration of his body mass only slightly. That's all he needed to sidestep physical density. He was only slightly less dense than the wood of the door. It was something equivalent to walking between raindrops, only in this case, Harry was walking between matter, sidestepping molecules by quickening his own just enough to keep his body intact, but above the rate and speed that the wood vibrated at. He remained visible while doing so, and anyone watching, would've seen a person appear to walk through the door. Once on the other side, he would be as solid as the door and could no longer pass through. The charm only lasted seconds, and could be fatal if one ran out of time before passing through solid objects.

To him, this was the kind of magic his family took for granted. The few times he'd done it in front of other wizards, they'd looked at him like he was on fire. They always wanted to know how he did it. He told them, until his father ordered him to stop. "We don't know how other people will use it. That kind of magic is kept in our family for a reason, for the safety of others."

After all, no prison or bank vault could hold up to it. It was the kind of magic outlawed in polite society, but Harry didn't hesitate to use it in his home.

He was glad he stepped through when he did. Draco had found a way to support his weight with the curtain rod and shelving, so that he could raise his body high enough to kick the window. He saw Harry and stopped. His chin trembled. "What the hell…"

Harry raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm sorry, I had to come in. I can't let you…"

His voice trailed off. Across from him, plastering the wall above the toilet and near the window, were faint red hand prints. They stamped over the beige paint as if Draco had found a way to walk on his hands with bleeding fingers. Some places were darker than others. A look at Draco's hands revealed nothing, as they were immediately balled into fists. Draco jumped down and backed into the crevice between the shower and window.

"Stay away from me." He drew his wand.

"Did you cut yourself? That's a lot of blood."

Draco shook his head. "No, it isn't. You haven't seen blood until you've gutted a lying, thug of a teacher. Nobody takes advantage of me. I don't care if this is your home."

Harry thought he could've relied on the ward that would let a wand be taken from a guest or intruder in the house, but that wasn't the way to instill trust.

"Believe me, all I want to do is give you your space, but not if you're just going to hurt yourself."

Draco's wand shook. His voice tightened, and he spoke through his teeth. "What do you care? You don't even know me. I'm nothing more than a prize to you."

"You're a human being, and you've obviously been through something that the rest of us can't imagine. Put your wand down. Let me get you some help. Your parents' elf, maybe. My gran can heal you. I can try, but she's better at it. Let someone take a look at you."

Draco's laugh was bitter. "That's all people have done. Take looks at me. Judge me. And my family. I need to be in a place where there's no people. Where no one wants to go. A place that's too uncomfortable for the average person. Lots of snow and ice, and freezing temperatures. I didn't think it would really come to this. You tricked everyone. When I get out of here, that's exactly where I'm going to go. My magic will take care of me."

Instead of responding with anything close to compassion, Harry blurted, "Your magic knows that we belong together. It would let me find you."

He made the mistake of stepping closer. Panic enlarged Draco's eyes.

"Don't try to hex me," Harry insisted. "If it worked at all, it could backfire on you. This house protects us. It'll protect you too now, if you let it."

"I don't belong here." His face had lost its underlying creamy tone, and now heated his eyes and nostrils with redness. Anger flushed through Draco. It moved off of him in waves and left crystal facets standing, unshed, in his eyes. Harry forced himself not to take another step.

"I know it's uncomfortable, and it isn't right. But give it a chance. We're both wizards, we're both intelligent. Other couples have surely started out with less. I promise, we can just be friends until it feels right to move on. Think of me as a flatmate. You can still come and go as you please."

"Then why can't I leave here now?"

"I don't know. It must have something to do with the contract. And you're so upset. I'll bet the magic that governs our marriage, doesn't want to leave things this way. I sure don't. If you have to leave, I'd rather see you do it with forgiveness in your heart. Forgive my magic. It didn't mean to upset you or to trick you. You offered yourself, and it said yes, without question. Without preamble. If your parents don't know how valuable you are, it does. I do. I couldn't give anyone else a chance."

For a second, Draco's face softened, releasing a bit of tension. Those last words had penetrated his armor. Harry got excited. Too excited. "And whatever your past is, whatever's going on with your ability to have a child, we can work that out. I will never ask you to do it, if it's that uncomfortable for you."

He thought this was the pinnacle of his acceptance, of being the better wizard that Draco wasn't expecting. But the next instance had him shuddering with regret.

"Liar!" Draco shouted. "Look at me and tell me that you haven't already thought about sleeping with me. You're disgusting. Hiding behind a contract. You want me in your bed, you don't care what happens to me. Yeah, you'll be the perfect spouse until you get what you want. You're magic didn't consider my feelings before, it won't consider them after. If you wanted six freaking kids, it would try to put my body through it. Your magic is tyrannical and you can go to hell, Harry Potter."

He still clutched his wand, but it lowered. He turned his back to Harry and punched the wall in the same instance. It obviously hurt more than he could tolerate, and that's when he settled for slapping it. Harry wanted to say something, was poised to, but he noticed the way Draco hit at the surface. He was like a child refusing to cry, only he was. Mournful grunts were escaping him, even though he tried to suppress them. He was practically choking on grief-filled sobs that he would not let out. So they tore through his winces and curses, astonishing Harry as he watched Draco's prints deepen the red on the wall. He hesitated, not because he was horrified of Draco, but because he was horrified that he was right. His very first thoughts of seeing him, had been filled with lust and entitlement.

He didn't feel he had the right to move forward, to touch Draco even just to restrain him, but the changing color of the wall, got him leaping into action. He slipped on broken pieces of things, but sped into Draco's body with enough impact to swing him away from the wall. One jerk, and the wand slipped free of his slick hands. Draco's limbs were long and subtle in their strength as they struggled out of Harry's grasp. Harry, shorter but stronger, put all his weight into caging the other's arms to himself. He was counting on Draco's lack of street skills, to make subduing him easier. Magic would've been easier, but cold. He had to face this battle at ground level, hand to hand. Touch still meant something in his family.

Draco was wiry, flailing, and all hysteria, but he was lighter than Harry expected. It was fairly easy to wrestle his arms down and back him into the same corner where he'd slunk upon Harry's entrance.

"No, no, no. I can't let you hurt yourself." To his relief, Draco's resistance eased, but he was still smarting with curses and accusations. Harry grabbed for his hands. Palms up, they were red and swollen. Smeared, blisters and bruises covered them. This was unthinkable to his mind, which needed to know how Draco had the time to do this much damage to himself. These were the types of wounds that took hours worth of dull pounding before the skin broke open. Like someone locked in a closet, trying to be heard by neighbors. A normal person would've given up from the pain. The sight told him more about Draco's state of mind than anything. And that scared him.

He had to have done this to himself before, like all night, just smacking the floor or the wall. Something occurred to him, but he had to calm Draco down.

"Listen, I'll let you go, but you've got to stop doing that. Don't hurt your hands. If you can't play your music, you'll have no escape. I'm going to buy you a piano."

Draco stilled. He looked startled and caught off guard. When he swallowed and looked at Harry, it was the look of defenselessness.

Get him where it matters, Harry thought. He thinks you don't care. "Until you warm up to all this, at your own pace, you can have a set of rooms to yourself. I'll buy you the best piano they make, whatever equipment you need, and you can stay in there all day. All that I ask, is that you have dinner with me and my family. One hour out of every evening. And not even every evening, just when our schedules allow it. You'll still travel. You'll still promote your projects. And I'm sure Gamy will let me make renovations. It's part of my inheritance because we always want the family together. Wizards could see it done inside of two weeks. Whatever else needs doing, can be done with magic. That's not to say that we won't have our own properties in other places. We will, but my family believes in putting down roots before branching off. Get to know them, before you shut them out."

He almost added, 'Our kids will need as much family as possible surrounding them,' but thought better of it. It was talk of children that set Draco off.

"What's the most expensive, quality piano they make? I don't know anything about them. You can trust my research or you can just tell me, to make sure you get what you want. I'll have it custom made, and for that you have to talk to me. You can have anything you want, like that wizard muggles loved so much. Gamy still has his old albums. Liberace. He had pianos made of diamonds and gold, and she said he was really a wizard. So don't hold back. Give me something to do for you. You're hurting, and I need to know how to make it stop. I won't touch your body. You're right, you're gorgeous, and my mind can't help but go there. It did, the minute I saw you. I'm sorry. But we have to get out of this bathroom."

Draco had caused so much commotion, he couldn't be sure their conversation was still private. If his dad and Gamy had reason to think they should be worried, they could very well listen in. Since no one had barged in yet, they must still be trusting that he could get Draco out.

In his arms, the other remained stiff, but he felt Draco's tension drop a notch. He didn't dare take if for granted this time. But he appreciated the opportunity to be this close, absorbing his uneasiness. It felt like he was doing something right. The scent of stress, along with traces of yesterday's aftershave, and even the herbal remnants of Draco's shampoo, went well with the weight of him in Harry's arms. He could do this. He could hold this guy indefinitely. But right now, he had to listen to what Draco's body was telling him. It had relaxed a few notches, but he was still poised to spring if he had to.

He sneered at Harry, "Don't you dare get anything so obscene. I'm not fucking Liberace. All I need is an upright."

Okay, some people would've been put off by the arrogant twist of mouth, but he saw it as a green light. Go.

"My husband is going to have the best."

"I'm not your husband, no matter what any contract says. And I can get any piano I want, myself. I have far more money than you do."

"It's my gift."

Draco squirmed. "I don't want your gift. I have pianos going waste around the world."

Harry loosened his hold slowly. "But you don't have one from me. It has to be significant. You've just influenced my decision to have it custom made. You're doing great work with your music. My gift will acknowledge that you'll do great work with me in your life. I honor you. Let me."

As soon as he could, Draco broke free of him and moved just fast enough, just far enough, to calm Harry's fear that his tantrum wasn't over. He pressed his head to the wall, silent and thinking, as if he had no choice but to consider Harry's words.

Then, "Well, if you must make ridiculous gestures, don't waste your money on anything less than a Böesendorfer. And don't embarrass me with anything as American and tacky as Liberace's stage props. Do it well. Elegant, or don't do it. Whatever you come up with, at least the quality won't suffer. The sound won't suffer. I sometimes compose on an electric piano and acoustic guitar, but the true test is in the vibration of the wood. That's where the soul lives. If I can feel that, I'll be okay."

"Absolutely. Anything."

Draco's eyes rolled away from him, and appeared to be resigning himself to his surroundings and his circumstances. He was trying not to look at Harry and the bathroom mess at the same time.

"I don't feel very well."

"Let me take your arm. Walk you out of here, and your family can floo out. Your parents stayed in our guest house. That's one option. Or you can let me escort you home. Or, I would love it if you just took a room upstairs that was completely private, and completely your own, and rested. I'd bring you something to eat. I wouldn't stay. I don't think you've slept all night, either."

Tired eyes with pale lashes considered it. Harry was struck by the contrast between his hair and much darker eyebrows. He could've been drawn with an artist's brush and come to life. In some ways, he had been.  
Draco looked sick with worry. "Your family hates me. If they didn't, they do now."

"My family is very emotionally intelligent. Not rocket scientists, but nurturers. The people who help others grow. By now, my mother has explained to everyone that they are not to upset you in any way. No one is going to be allowed to be insensitive to your needs. Not in this house. No one expected the magic to be so bold, and it's not fair to you. My family knows that. Who wouldn't lock themselves in the most private place they could find. You're authentic. You're not happy, and you let everyone know it. That's far more impressive than sitting at our table faking a smile and dying inside."

Draco looked more sad than encouraged. At least he wasn't hitting the walls.

Harry added, "If anyone upsets you, tell me. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, tell me. Let me handle it. Nobody in this house will, but lots of people come and go at times."

He didn't answer and Harry knew what he was thinking. To acknowledge Harry, meant acceptance on some level, and he wasn't ready to openly accept anything. His manner said that this was temporary defeat, if anything. He'd regroup. He'd come back strong. But he did need rest. A truce. He was looking grayer by the minute. He pushed off the wall and went to the sink.

Harry waited, watching him the way a parent watches a child who doesn't know they're in the room. The sink was old fashioned. Draco gripped the handle with his sleeve wrists. Harry noted that he could've used a little wandless magic to move the handles. Most wizards can move objects an inch or so without a wand. The fact that he didn't, hinted of either his exhaustion, or the belief that he could no longer use his magic due to the marriage or house wards.

He held his hands under the hot tap until it scalded. Harry was quick to draw his wand and piece the soap dispenser back together in time to hold it over Draco's hands. He accepted it recalcitrantly. He lathered and rinsed twice as if it were a routine chore. Then he splashed his face with cold water. Harry stepped aside to let him get at the guest towels himself. His prim lack of words warned of annoyance, and clued Harry not to take chivalry too far. This didn't mean that everything was okay.

When his hands were dry, he looked at them. They were still red and blue in places, and trembled. "I wish I had gloves," he said more to himself than to Harry.

Delighted, Harry knew of a clean pair that always sat in Gamy's gardening cupboard. With a locator spell, he manifested it through the ethers. They appeared in his hands and he gave them to Draco, minus telling him they were for ladies. Another charm, and they actually fit.

"I look like Micky Mouse. Can you refine the appearance? They should conform to my hands. Conceal them, not attract attention."

Right. Another tweek, and the crease between Draco's brow smoothed on its own. He held his long fingers out, pleased. "Much better."

A final, resolute breath, and he dropped his hands. "What now?"

Harry held out his arm. "Take my arm. And no matter what is facing you on the other side of that door, hold your head high. I'll get you home. I'll call to see how you're doing, and I'll contact you in a few days, just trying not to be pushy. Think about what I said."  
Draco's nod was barely perceptible. He tentatively reached for Harry's arm, but said, "Wait. I can't leave this mess. I don't want your family to see this. Can you fix it?"

Instead of asking questions, Harry jumped at the opportunity to do so. The mirror went back into place. Grit under their feet restored itself into the solid figurines and knick-knacks that were sentimental to Gamy. Candles went back into their holders, and the Monet painting hung itself back up. The most glaring problem, the bloody hand prints, faded away as Harry took a careful moment to cleanse them from the wall magically. They had been pounded through the moistened paint, and soap and water would not have gotten rid of them anyway. For a moment he wondered if this wizard's blood would just show through new layers of paint. His family's magic could read the trauma in Draco's blood. The house itself, now knew secrets about his husband that he didn't know, because of those hand prints.

When the last of them were gone, he turned back to Draco, held out his arm, and waited for him to make good on the deal.

With downcast eyes, Draco took his arm. His hold was committed, even if he wasn't. His manner said, 'Don't embarrass me and I won't embarrass you.' His head lifted as Harry opened the door for them. They took their first dutiful steps forward, and exited together.

* * *

**Note:** The next chapter is already written and will be uploaded later today. Thank you to all the readers who commented so sweetly and left kudos. It's a joy to write for you! :-) 3


	6. Storm

A click on the lock sent everyone scattering. Harry and Draco never heard the commotion their families made to scramble away from the door and act natural. Thanks to last minute muffling charms, that Gamy realized she had to cast because she could not keep her household from squabbling over who got to hear what was being said through the door, the boys were protected from a lapse in grace and decorum. It was her idea to have them looked in on, but she never anticipated having to intervene on the intervention.

Those who couldn't hide in time, tripped over one another and ended up some distance down the hall just as Harry opened the door. Lucius had fumed because he'd been the furthest from the door, and Sirius the closest, with his ear against it. If anyone had a right to listen, it was him. When everyone jumped at the sound of the lock, he'd been run down and stepped on by the likes of James, Lily, and Remus, who rounded the corner and escaped being seen just as the boys stepped out. They were arm in arm. This left Lucius both speechless and hopeful as his wife helped him up from the floor.

They were only there because Gamy had asked Sirius in particular, from her parlor, "They've tripped my wards. Be a dear, and go check on those boys."

The morning was getting on. Neighbors and well-wishers had been arriving since dawn, along with owls bearing inquiries as to whether or not the morning newspapers were telling the truth. Gringotts had posted the marriage, and it ran printed alongside Announcements and Obituaries in all the main wizarding papers. The Prophet had taken it further and printed an exposé full of speculation on the marriage of Draco Malfoy and his relatively unknown husband, a member of one of Britain's oldest and private magical families.

There had been lights flickering when Gamy singled Sirius out, not James. From her tone, she needed a job doing that Sirius was better suited to. He was sure, protective, with just the right amount of not giving a rat's ass what anyone thought. James would've made a show of being above eavesdropping. Sirius had no such qualms. When James started to protest, Sirius gave him one look that said what everyone else was thinking. The Malfoy boy wasn't stable. But all he said was, "My Godson might need a little help."

James backed down, but followed. Lily trailed behind him. Once everyone saw that not even she was protesting, beacon of all things righteous that she was, they joined in. The Malfoys, who could not be coaxed any closer into the fray, waited in the next room, eyeing their tea service, and each other, with weary anticipation. This had gone on long enough, yet neither wanted to be the first to suggest they actually leave their son to work out his problems with this family. When they saw a long line of Potters marching past the room, they refused to be left out of whatever new development they were not being told about.

Guests had been relegated to the back terrace for cake, until Gamy began turning them away. She kept looking out the window at the sky and smoothing the pins in her hair. Something about the way the day was changing, clouds gathering, told her that today was not a day for festive gatherings, marriage or not. The occasion was going to be more work than pleasure, and she made it a priority to get her house settled. People sent gifts anyway. She let them accumulate in her parlor while Lily ignored owl inquiries as to whether there would still be a formal wedding celebration, and was in charge of tactfully turning unannounced family and guests away. She was not as successful as she'd hoped, and seats kept having to be added to the tables on the terrace.

She knew that some of James's more staunched cousins weren't leaving until they saw the boys firsthand, themselves. They were only here to get as much information as possible on the merger. The news was causing such a stir that her sister had come all the way from Surrey to be with her. That was quite a morning commute for a housewife with no magic, whose husband abhorred wizards. But Petunia had stood up to him, claiming that, "If my sister didn't tell me about this, that means it wasn't planned with any certainty and something's gone wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way, this is no better than eloping. She needs me. I'm going."

Her husband insisted she travel with their son for protection. "Any funny business, Dudley, and you call me right away. I don't trust wizards, no sir."

Dudley had nodded, torn between loyalty to his father and keeping his mother happy. He was Harry's age and adored the magical side of his family. He understood his father's point. Magical people could be intimidating, but everyone in James's family had only ever treated him with the same kindness and open arms that they treated Harry with. He wasn't nearly as prejudiced as his father, and used those rare visits to watch real magic happening as if he were watching a parade. He'd go silent while watching his cousins play chess. Seeing those game pieces march up to one another and beat the crap out of each other, was better than any video game he'd ever played. And once, when Gamy's husband was living, he'd been allowed to ride, harnessed to Harry's broom with him, as both were given lessons as if he had magic too. He knew he didn't, but Aunt Lily's family had made it seem so fun, and made such a fuss about including him, that he couldn't hate magical people, no matter what his father said about them. The love coming from both worlds often tore him in two.

He was content to be his mother's escort and made himself useful by checking in on the guests when Gamy asked him to. He met more relatives on James's side of the family as he served drinks and let some of the younger children take turns playing games on his Ipad. He got the gist of what was going on with Harry, from his mother, and had no idea how to feel about it. Wizards couldn't be expected to act any differently than they did. He just hoped his cousin was okay with it. Marriage scared the hell out of him. He couldn't imagine being married to a bloke, but that was not for him to judge. He just hoped this was what Harry wanted. As long as everyone in the house was acting like such an arrangement was perfectly normal, he would do his best to do so as well.

Lily found herself chewing on her pinky nail tensely, as she studied a copy of the Prophet her sister had handed her, over the breakfast table. Petunia didn't subscribe to the paper, but she had secret wizard neighbors who could not pass up the opportunity to make sure that she knew.

"You'll want to read that, love," she said to Lily.

Harry was not well known, but the Malfoy elders were socially elite, and jaws did drop when Gringotts released the information in their standard Acquisitions and Mergers Report. The announcement was followed by articles shedding as much light on the suddenness of the marriage as possible. The only images available, were separate ones. Draco in formal attire, attending one of a number of functions, and Harry, almost a stranger to the world at large, sitting astride his broom in full quidditch uniform. It was taken after a hard win, and he looked particularly harried, windblown, and athletic in his padding and cape regalia, as he hovered close to the ground for the shot. The marriage, Petunia was saying, wasn't what everyone was talking about. It was the fact that no one realized the Malfoy heir's tastes ran so dark and tousled.

"Snobs can't believe that a pristine pureblood would actually commit to a sweaty jock, let alone a working boy. The working classes are impressed with Draco's tastes. Everyone's trying to dig up a reason for the match, as if simply being a young, attractive couple wasn't enough. They're going to focus on Harry's magic. By nightfall, they'll have done some research. Best to tell Harry not to talk to anyone, no matter how polite they seem. That's how they sneak information out of you," she pointed out.

Lily nodded, agreeing. Her son looked so handsome on the cover. And so young. He wasn't ready for this kind of publicity. No one had thought to stop the news from going to press. No one thought it mattered enough to the outside world. Apparently, they had underestimated Draco's celebrity. He was just another rich kid in some circles, an understated, almost hidden heir. In others, he was a celebrated innovator, raising eyebrows over not just his musical therapy, but the ability to turn his back on all of his wealth and breeding, to bring his talents into the field of medicine. Harry's image was going to make people think they knew why. As if he'd been some part of a clandestine relationship for years, before announcing their marriage today.

She smiled. That did make one dream, and they were very good looking boys. They could be happy together. The attention would die down. Draco would come around. She'd asked her maid to stay longer and help prepare the next two meals in case this thing drug out. The day was too significant to toss her closest family and friends out on their ears. Some of them were stubborn and taking note of how well they were being treated in the face of adversity. Today was not a day to burn bridges. She'd play host and feed these nosy buggers, then toss them out. Her kindness had limits. It was Harry's and Draco's day, after all. The crowd wasn't helping.

She'd startled when a young girl popped into view beside her. She was jumpy, she knew the girl's disruptive comings and goings by now. Everyone overlooked Beatrice's lack of grace, knowing she didn't mean to do things with her wrecking ball eagerness. One day, that would mature into something quite capable, but right now, she had a tremendous aplomb for trigger happy leaps of energy. She was a carefree child who didn't quite know the meaning of boundaries. She'd had a special license to apparate since she was fourteen and qualified under medical hardship. Having a werewolf for a father, subjected her to potential emergencies to get herself or her dad safe. She'd never had to deal with anything close to such an emergency, but her fathers had trained her well and she embodied the charms of both of them, exhibiting a kind of wild compassion that tore the ground up to prove itself.

"Hi, aunty! Dad said I could come over if I finished my homework. I did it in record time. I made it, right before the rain hit. It's clouding up out there like you wouldn't believe." She breathed as if she'd ran the distance and not used magic at all. Lily knew that that was just how excited she was over the news of her cousin's marriage.

"Is he still here? Did Harry really marry that guy, 'cause he's hot. Hot! This is the most exciting thing ever." She squealed and her sixteen year-old feet stomped the floor excitedly. Lily couldn't help but smile, remembering how giddy other people's romances used to make her, before she really knew anything about it.

The girl put her hands over her mouth and peered over them with eyes the size of saucers. "Did they kiss?" She went flamingo pink and squeezed her eyes shut when Lily returned her stare directly.

"No, honey. No kisses. It wasn't a real ceremony."

"But it's in the papers. I told everyone at school, that's my cousin, Harry. Did I lie?"

Lily laughed and hugged her. "No, it's a bit more complicated than that."

Nicknamed Beatrice, by Gamy, who swore she was the spitting image of Sirius's great grandmother, her real name was Emerald Lupin Black. That name was important because it took years to get it on record. She was the result of two fathers who mistook their friendship as only that, and didn't see the interest they shared as anything they could realistically make work.

Remus thought he could let Sirius continue to have his playboy freedom, and they'd find a way to ignore all those inconvenient feelings. He thought he could suffer in silence and no one had to know that he was in hell over discovering that he, a man, could have a child. Lycanthropy had finally reeked havoc on his genes and triggered the ability when it had never been apparent otherwise.

He was told, "Since your condition is a curse and not genetic, if we remove the embryo now, there's a good chance aberrations won't be transferred to the baby. A surrogate mother could reinforce healthy development and genetically dominate triggers to the mutation. Let us take the child now, and put this behind you."

He'd signed the embryo away, and gave permission to fully disclose his medical condition to the potential surrogate as he did so. The lady mediwizard treating him promised the child would go to a worthy mother, and that he could compensate for any medical assistance that she and the baby needed, anonymously, until the child was seventeen. He thought he knew what it meant to give up a part of himself. He and Sirius had no business attempting to raise a child. He really believed that was the right thing to do.

But watching James with Harry, changed something inside of him over the years. His decision tore at him. It made him realize that raising a kid wasn't about heroic feats and impossible sacrifices, or even getting anything right. Maybe those issues cropped up, but James taught him that the biggest, most important part of it, was just being there everyday. Waking up to the normalness and the seemingly mundane. You can't put a price on stability. As painful as boredom was, it was the basis for all things worth appreciating. And the amazing thing was, children weren't boring at all. The way James fawned over the most unrecognizable crayon drawing of Harry's, helped Remus to realize that anything special to anyone, was so, because of all the non-special, ordinary things in the world. Diapers, crying babies, and all that stuff that scared most bachelors away, slowly took on quiet fascination. Waking up to your kid, going to sleep to your kid, and just allowing them to be, as you watched and cheered them on, didn't seem so bad. James made it look wonderful. Remus would always have to work, to pay bills and be responsible, so he wasn't afraid of that.

Matters were made worse when he saw Emerald, three years after giving up his rights. He'd spotted those doll-like cheeks, huge green eyes, and a mop of loose black curls bouncing around her tiny head as she held the hand of a woman on a bus. Her chatter caught his attention. Her mother repeatedly telling her to shush, made him smile. Her baby voice asked question after question about the people and objects around her. She'd pointed directly at him and said quite loudly, "Look, that man's staring."

He was looking at a child who couldn't have been quite three, and yet she spoke in complete sentences. He'd had no idea who she was.

Her mother pushed her hand down a little too harshly, and threatened to spank her if she continued. Remus turned his back to keep from distracting her, but his ears pricked up. She had a distinctive voice for a child so young, and he felt something about her. What he'd given up was never far from his mind, and when she'd gotten quiet, he risked another peak over his shoulder. He turned in time to see an outburst cut short by her mother's slender fingers pinching her arm. Pink nails dug cruelly, just enough not to break the skin, and the lady held on. His wolf senses alarmed, and picked up her words, "Stop showing out! When I get you home, you'll learn to shut it when I say so."

Instead of pouting quietly, the child let out a scream that had every head on the bus turning. He jerked to face the woman. "That is quite uncalled for! She's done nothing wrong."

"Mind your own business."

"Any mistreated child is my business." He'd grown hot under his collar, and the wolf in him wanted to tear out of his suit.

The woman's mouth went beak-like. She was smart enough not to argue. She grabbed her things and demanded the driver stop. She stormed off of it with her child. Remus couldn't let it go. He made sure to take the same bus at the same time in the following days. The child haunted him. How could anyone obviously despise such a bright, beautiful little girl? He told himself he was just making sure she was okay. There were no more incidents on the bus, but he did see her again. There was something in her face. She was less talkative and he thought he saw bruises on her plump arms. That caused him to follow her. Without the woman knowing, he watched her, becoming more and more familiar with her timid smile, her want to grab everything that came close to her, and her look of abashment when her mother pinched her.

After two weeks of trying not to be the wrecking ball in these stranger's lives, he understood why he was stalking this woman and her child. Because the child wasn't hers. She was his. He finally had a face to match to the loss he'd felt for years. Call it instinct, call it scent. The wolf knew its own. Maybe the lady had carried her to term, but that was his genetic information smiling back at him, burgeoning with more life than he'd thought possible. His and Sirius's. He was sure of it. That was the only thing that could drive him to needing to see her face and making sure that she was okay everyday. He couldn't eat or sleep without being haunted by what he'd given up, and inside of another month, his only thought was, how could he get her back?

He let slip to the authorities that he suspected child abuse. An investigation disrupted the mother's life briefly, but revealed nothing conclusive. The next time he saw the child, she was wearing a cast on her arm.

He had to find a different way. He went to James for help with lawyers and financing. Everyone was shocked to hear him speaking of adopting a child, as if he'd always wanted one. He said that he was helping out a friend, who was finding it difficult to care for the child. In truth, through lawyers, he offered the mother a sum of money in exchange for blood testing and magical scans of her daughter. She refused, but he persisted just short of harassment. He learned her birthday and sent letters every year. By then he'd explained who he was, as much as he could, and why he wanted her. "She's mine and you don't really love her. I made a mistake. Do the right thing and give her back. I'll provide any biological or magical proof that I can."

The woman eventually fought back with restraining orders and threatening lawsuits of her own. It took a car accident, admitting to having her muggle family turn their backs on her, and an agonizing fight for her life, to let Remus sit by her bedside and hear him out. She'd had no visitors and she was paralyzed from the waist down. Instead of having him thrown out of her hospital room, she'd cried in his arms and swore that she really did love her daughter. Loved her, but didn't like her.

"It's like I gave birth to the pushiest, loudest bully from my childhood, only in the form of an innocent little girl. She can be sweet, but she's positively wild. We're so different. I don't get a moment's peace. My anxiety is off the charts. She's constantly doing things. We've been evicted twice, because her magic escapes her and messes with electrical things. My family couldn't take it. They're not magic and they don't understand. It's not that she won't behave. She can't, she's too young. I only pinch her to settle her down. That's a lot nicer than what my mother used to do to me. I got smacked in the mouth. You bet I did. I want to see her happy. I want to be the one to make her happy, but… I have to admit that maybe I'm not the one to do it. I've watched over her for as long as I could."

She died before he could get her to sign her daughter into his custody. It took another year of proving himself to Child Services, transforming his life from that of a bachelor, to that of a stable, employed father, before he was denied custody again. It took a midnight stupor, a drunken confession, and raging at Sirius for, ironically, never taking anything seriously, before he let it slip that he was losing his mind over this child, whom he had to adopt, because he should've never given her up in the first place.

"She's ours, you idiot! I knew I couldn't trust you to grow up. I couldn't rely on you, I couldn't ask that of you, and I couldn't rely on myself. I did what I thought was best for her. And now I've found her, and not even you can keep me from being the father to her that I should've been."

The news shut down Sirius's ability to crack a joke, and sobered him on the spot. "Are you serious? You had our child, and never told me?"

"No, I didn't. She was just a bunch of cells when I found out. The lycantrhropy was off, my lunar cycle was off. I wasn't turning, or even threatening to turn. I had some tests done. It was a simple procedure. It removed her at six weeks and implanted her into someone who wanted to have a child. She showed no signs of lycanthropy. I was told the curse had not passed to her and that she could have a normal life. Who wouldn't pass that up?"

Sirius kept shaking his head in disbelief. "I have a daughter? A daughter?" He was too distraught to attack Remus for keeping the secret. He was too enchanted. "A little girl who looks like you and me?"

Who he was six years ago, was someone incapable of handling such news. Not with grace, anyway. But he'd also seen James with his little empire of a son, and that didn't look so bad. Fatherhood was no longer the Kryptonite it once was. And that old, playboy Sirius, had no child to have to reckon with. But this one, the one present and hearing the news, did. They were different people now, and the more Remus talked, the more he merely wanted to meet his daughter. Not sulk in revenge or bitterness, just meet her.

Remus produced a picture, and Sirius could not be talked down from his conviction that that was his child, from that moment on. He'd never seen a two-year old with a shit-eating grin, but that was definitely his. All that frilly daintiness, where some mother had tried hard to make her look like a doll, had his stamp all over it. If he'd been born a girl, he would've looked exactly like that. It charmed him to no end, and he was just thankful that he could see a bit of Remus in her chin and forehead.

The Black family had a different opinion, and fought his attempts to have her legally recognized as blood-relation. It took the intervention of Gringotts, both muggle and wizard lawyers, and fees they would be paying for, for the rest of their lives, to break his family's wards and have their records reveal the truth. With the Black name behind them, he and Remus were able to adopt Emerald, and gave her the names she should've been born with.

Their relationship skidded around the subject of commitment, but they were committed to her, and lived as a family until she was old enough to understand why they needed separate flats. Sirius loved Remus, but he also loved women and dating and kicking up his heels in protest of growing older. Remus needed peace. He lived with debilitating effects of lycanthropy, and sent Emerald away to him during recovery periods, when medication did not always control his condition. He had resigned himself to loving without asking for anything in return, as long as his daughter was happy, and Sirius wasn't behaving too stupidly. Any family crisis always saw them pull together and rise to maturity until all threats were abated. Neither were fulfilled by the situation, but as long as Emerald was smiling and going on incessantly about the boys at her school, they told themselves they weren't doing that badly.

Now Lily wondered how to impress upon her, the importance of not talking about the marriage until Harry and his husband were ready.

"What's the complicated part? Where are they? Did they start their honeymoon already?"

Across from them, Petunia flipped through the paper and grinned at the challenge facing her sister.

Lily gently clamped her hand over the girl's mouth. "Emmy, sweetie, they're still here. But we're all being quiet about it because things didn't go well. It's impolite to talk about it. Harry's husband is sad. Please don't say anything else to anyone about it, not even to Harry, and especially not to Draco. Not until they've given everyone permission to. Got it?"

Behind her hand, the teen nodded. Her green eyes pooled with the honor of keeping a family secret. She was a beauty, but had a stout squareness about her build. It could've been her taste for antique, button up sweaters that kept her narrow shoulders hidden in fuzzy knits. It could've been the fact that she'd shot up to Sirius's height by the time she was fourteen, and didn't yet know how to coordinate the long-muscled elegance that Remus moved so with effortlessly. She was growing more experimental with make-up, but still wore her dark hair in two fluffy, overflowing ponytails and was more comfortable in muggle jeans and trainers than stylish dresses. Either way, her looks were that of an unpolished gem, like her name, and Lily knew perfectly well why her fathers encouraged her fashion quirks as "unique." The longer she remained oblivious to how stunning she was, the longer those sweaters hid it, the longer they got to keep her. Gamy had always said, "When she finds out what she can do, she's leaving the nest. They'll be lucky if they see her once a year."

As soon as Lily's hand went away, she blurted, "Draco! That's such a cool name. I can't wait to meet him. I bet he's awesome. Is his hair really that white? It looks so pretty. Harry is so lucky. He gets to brush it. I wonder if he'll teach me to play piano. The paper said he's nominated for the Magical Registry of World Contributions, for teaching people to play instruments faster than anybody. That's like the Nobel Prize in the wizard world. I've always wanted to learn piano. Do you think he'll play for us? Gamy's upright is still in the basement and we haven't had a party here in a long time."

Lily didn't bother to correct her on her facts. The award was nothing close to the Nobel Prize, but it was a high honor. To the naked eye, her accepting nature was unruffled by Emerald's excitement. To the more perceptive observers, like Petunia and Gamy, who stayed busy between the dining table and the kitchen, her gears were turning. They had all learned early on that a child like Emmy had to be kept busy.

Ignoring Emerald's questions, Lily teased slyly, "You know who else is here?"

"Who!"

"A certain muggle you couldn't stop talking about the last time you met him. 'Tuney brought her son along."

"The Duddler!" Her mouth fell open, as if she literally could not handle the shock.

"He's pouring tea on the terrace as we speak. Maybe he could use some help. Or a little distraction?"

Emerald jumped up, upsetting the table. "Oh my God!" She looked at Petunia, "When were you going to tell me?"

Petunia's rapid blinking suggested, when did she have time? She knew the girl had a crush on Dudley, and as eager as she seemed, they all knew exactly what would come of it. Emerald would go bashful and quiet the minute Dudley saw her, and spend the rest of the day expressing her feelings through inappropriate outbursts and awkward social skills. Dudley was a sport for putting up with her, and never let on when her presence pestered him. Until this fiasco was over with, he was officially on baby-sitting duty.

Petunia made light of it. "Well, I'm sure he'd love to see you. Go catch up."

It was then that the lights started blinking and Gamy came out of the kitchen. She crossed behind the table and stuck her head into the next room where James and his friends were doing their best to wait out the situation.

"Sirius," Her tone lacked any humor. "They've tripped my wards. Be a dear, and go check on those boys."

When she heard this, Emerald froze midstep in her direction towards the terrace. She felt the pull of entitlement. Her dad was going to get to speak to Harry and his husband. Surely that meant she could too, or watch from a distance. But Dudley was so cute and he was always nice to her. The epic indecision caused her to hesitate with an open mouth. It was enough time for Sirius to pause upon seeing her as he passed through the kitchen. Without waiting for her to ask, he firmly admonished, "No. Stay here," and disappeared with James trailing after.

Stunned by the idea that Harry and Draco had tripped her mother's wards, Lily jumped up and ran after them. When Remus and Petunia followed, Emerald tested her father's authority and set foot into the corridor that divided the house into two living quarters. There, she saw the Malfoys follow in pursuit. She recognized them from the papers. To her, they were a mass of swirling, extravagant fabrics. The man's heavy, soft-looking black coat played lead to his wife's powder blue elegance. Their blond hair and stylish clothing left her in the wake of expensive fragrances, perfumes and the sweetness of life-details that were completely alien to her. All very pleasant to take in. They smelled like new experiences and promises of kindness. They looked like matching male and female dolls. Almost like brother and sister, by their shared, pale traits. All she wanted to do was touch Mr. Malfoy's long beautiful hair. Her fascination deepened.

She waited until they were nearly out of sight, before disobeying her father.

* * *

Harry clasped Draco's arm tighter. More to anchor the trembling muscles he felt, than to control their pacing. He cleared the threshold first, with Draco a half a step off center to his right. They heard faint gasps before they ever detected movement in the hall. Things were so fragile between them, eaves droppers weren't exactly their most pressing concern. Especially not doting family members.

Everyone appeared to forget their discretion as the boys came out into the open. The Malfoys kept a dignified distance while the Potters rushed forward. Petunia hung back with Remus and Sirius.

"Did you two get any rest?" James directed his question at Harry, while studying Draco's reaction. After it was out, he cringed at what it might've implied. Lily jumped at the chance to disregard it.

"Never mind that. You must be hungry. Breakfast's still warm. Are you feeling well enough to eat, Draco?"

She knew she sounded over eager, but someone had to step up. Clearly, Harry had done his part all night long, and looked like he needed a break. Never mind how disheveled and harassed Draco looked. They were all pretending not to see the redness around his eyes or how his clothes hung like rumpled curtains on his slender frame. He moved with painful stillness next to Harry's untethered easiness. His mouth could not hide his unhappiness if he wanted it to.

It took a second, but Draco looked at her and answered with steadiest, "No, thank you," that he could muster. It was such a departure from the rage they'd all witnessed yesterday, that it came across as downright charming. Lily tried not to press her luck.

"Can I get you anything at all? Do you two want to discuss anything with us? In private?"

Three questions at once. Draco looked at Harry, putting the burden of answering on him.

"Draco doesn't feel well, Mom. I'm trying to talk him into taking a room upstairs, but I think he wants to go home with his family."

She looked at him. "Is that true? That's perfectly fine."

As if that were their cue, the Malfoys crowded behind James and Lily. "Yes," Lucius groaned. "These sequence of events have gone on long enough. We could all use a reprieve from our negotiations, which, as far as I'm concerned, are not settled. The contract was completed in disregard of what both parties wanted, therefore, the marriage is not satisfactory, no matter the legal recognition. I say-"

Narcissa intervened. "That we retire and revisit the situation next week."

There were bags under her eyes, but her smile was gracious. She aimed a sharp, pointed look at them, with the lines of her mascara. But weariness, conveyed by her dry throat, made her sound sincere. She seemed just as exhausted as her son.

Her solution was more of a truce, and met with practical nods. No one knew what else to do.

"Okay." Lily clasped her hands, making it sound like a fun new game they could all play. Since Draco appeared to sway on his feet and every second had Harry glancing to make sure he was still attached to him, she just wanted to put everyone out of their misery.

"Let James and I show you to the most appropriate floo and we'll see you off."

James beamed, happy to have a purpose.

The Malfoys had arrived by car, and sent the chauffeur away sometime in the evening. It had been their idea to observe all formalities before taking familiar liberties with the Potter's floo. James guessed that argument was dead and buried now that the boys were married. He was smart enough to say nothing as he led the way to their family room. It held one of the larger fireplaces, capable of transporting six people at once. He walked slowly enough to make sure Draco was keeping up. His gut took a hit when he looked behind himself and saw their intertwined arms separate on the journey through the house. Harry reached for Draco's hand, which swung aimlessly. He caught it. Draco did not pull away.

In the family room, the hearth was seldom used, clear of soot, and carved from a single slab of French marble. Lucius stood upright, without having to crouch, with his wife beside him. Lily and James held back when Harry made a point of catching Draco's eye before letting go of him. Petunia, Remus, and Lupin kept a polite distance while Emerald cursed her luck from the closet across the hall as they partially blocked her view.

Harry surprised everyone by asking, risking, "Can I see you home? I'll leave immediately after."

They all held their breath as Draco nodded with uneasy consent. Just then, thunder shook the house, startling them all. It was a rare occurrence, as its foundation rose from bedrock that anchored its structure with the sturdiest materials wizards could manipulate with endurance spells. All of it packaged to look like an unassuming muggle estate behind gated walls.

Remus spoke up. "I guess that's my cue to help Gamy bring the guests in from the terrace." He bowed out politely, leaving an empty spot for Emerald's line of sight.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of Draco. He was taller and more beautiful than she'd thought. But what was even more amazing, was the way Harry stood so close to him, touching his arm even, without being embarrassed in front of his parents or anything. She'd never seen him bring anyone home in the capacity of boyfriend or girlfriend, so this revelation dripped with strawberry sweetness. And Draco was the cream. She hated to see him go.

Harry stepped into the floo with the Malfoys and Lucius murmured a repellent charm that would keep soot off their clothes, before stating his intended destination. There was the usual green flash, but instead of disappearing, all four remained in their spots. Stunned.  
James and Lily looked at one another.

Lucius glanced around the room, then to Harry as if he could offer an explanation.

Harry shrugged, keeping his suspicion to himself. "Give it another go."

Lucius did, and met with the same result. "What in damnation is going on here?" He'd been in this place long enough.

"The storm," Harry rushed before his parents could answer. "It has to be. This doesn't happen." He looked at his father. "Does Gamy have wards over the floo?"

"Not to keep anyone from leaving. We've been trying to get as many people to leave as possible."

"We're not blocking access until everyone's cleared out," Lily added.

"Then it has to be the storm. Didn't anyone else think that clap of thunder was awfully loud down here?"

While they speculated, they missed the warning in Draco's sway. His body leaned into Harry's and Lily went warm with relieved affection, until she saw his legs buckle and he continued tumbling to the floor.

Everyone rushed forward as Harry caught him. "Draco! What's wrong?"

James helped Harry support him, leaving nothing for Lucius to do but stammer as they drug him to the nearest sofa. Draco winced when his head hit the cushion, but his eyes remained closed and his head twisted away from anyone attempting to talk to him.

Narcissa's long legs split the opening of her coat, to step over James and insert herself closest to her son.

Lucius demanded of her, "What's wrong with him now?"

James scrambled back and Lily tried not to scowl at Lucius.

"Darling, the day has obviously been too much for him." She patted Draco's hand.

"It's their floo. It's done something."

"It's not the floo," Harry insisted. "He's exhausted and he's not well."

Everyone looked at Draco, unable to deny it. His body slouched partially off the couch, until James lifted his feet to level him out. "We should send for a doctor, just to make sure."

"_We_ should be leaving. We can get all the medical assistance my son needs if we could simply leave this place."

James countered, "Well, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with the floo. Try apparating, although I wouldn't recommend taking Draco that way in the shape he's in. You can always call that driver you showed up with, the floo isn't your only option here."

Lucius lifted his chin. "I'm not leaving my son behind."

"I'll stay with him," Narcissa said. She felt Draco's cheek. "He does need a doctor, he's hot. Lucius, bring the driver back."

James gave a heavy sigh and raked his hands through his hair. "You know what, I can drive you." He looked at Sirius. "Pull the car around. I'll get him to the door."

"Do you need help carrying him?"

"Don't think so. I'll use a half weight charm. He's not that heavy."

Sirius went. Harry looked up from Draco and thought he saw a fleeting moment of panic on Lucius's face. The wizard was not accustomed to not being able to control anything. Not only hadn't he had any control since yesterday, things were slipping ever further out of his reach. Important things.

"It's okay, Mr. Malfoy," Harry tried to comfort him. "I'm sure he just needs to rest."

Lucius went rigid and shot back, "What is your magic doing now?"

The accusation made everyone stare at Harry.

"Nothing. I'm not doing anything. He's been upset all night. He didn't eat or sleep."

James leaned forward. "Neither have you."

Harry went on, "I imagine this is more stressful for him than you or I will ever know."

"And convenient for you. The longer we are detained, the more precarious our situation grows."

Harry stood up from kneeling by Draco. "This isn't about you. I'm sorry if my magic has inconvenienced your family, but it won't hurt him. Or any of you. If the floo isn't working, there's a good reason for it. Maybe he's just too sick to travel."

"My son is not a fainting willow. We are made of sturdier stock than that. Whatever's wrong with him, I blame the grave error of setting foot in this house."

"Hey!" James crossed his arms. "Don't talk to my son like that. You wanted a marriage, you got one. You're just pissed because you're not the one pulling the strings anymore."

"It's okay, Dad. There's a lot he doesn't know about Draco. If he can't see what he's doing to his own son, how can he see the truth of anything else?"

He hadn't meant to put so much venom in the insult, that's just how it came out. He couldn't hide what the sight of Draco's limp body and Mr. Malfoy's embarrassed disposition made him feel.  
Lily jumped in. "Honestly, we can point fingers later. Get him to the car."

Without letting anyone help, James wrestled Draco into his arms. He immediately wished he'd told Sirius to pull around back. The carport off the kitchen was closer, but he made for the entrance. Lily got in front of him and shooed everyone else out of the way. They got to the foyer as Sirius ran into them.

His clothes were dripping, hair plastered, and he gulped air to catch his breath. "No. Good," he panted. He bent forward, hands on knees, as if recovering from a punch in the gut.

James knew he wasn't that out of shape, so he waited.

"Can't do it, mate. S'storm. It's bad out there. I didn't even make it to the garage."

"You could've accessed it from the kitchen. Just downstairs, behind the pantry."

He shook his head. "No, you don't get it. Something's going on out there. Look out a bloody window."

James had no choice but to prop Draco into a chair. Harry rushed to put a pillow under his head. Everyone ran to the windows. Sheets of water smacked horizontally across the glass and grayed out the view. All they could tell was that the downpour was blowing sideways from heavy winds, and they could only see that when lightning illuminated the darkness. It was only shortly afternoon, and yet they were staring out at a dark evening sky.

James considered the rivery film blowing across the pane. "You could apparate to the car."

"Tried that. Doesn't work. Give it a shot."

Disbelieving, he dropped eye contact, and concentrated on sitting behind the wheel of his car. He'd done it so many times, it was second nature. Seconds without any movement, confirmed that Sirius was right. "Shit!"

"That's okay," he quickly recovered. "I know how to drive in a little rain."

"Don't be stupid," Lily said, straining her eyes to see out. "If you can't make it to the car, what makes you think it's safe to drive?"

Just then, a flash of brilliant green light imitated streaks of electrical discharge. Spindly fingers sizzled across the sky, vaulting in front of the windows and turning the room green for an instant. Thunder sounded like boulders breaking against the roof. Nothing about that sequence of event was natural, and it silenced everyone in the room.

There was such an ear-splitting rupture, felt in the soles of their feet, that Petunia shielded her head with her arms and called out for Dudley. She was certain the house had suffered collapsing damage under the impact of that vibration.

"It's okay," James tried to calm her. Lily was instantly by her side and threw her arms around her.

Lucius glared at James. "What the hell was that?"  
James and Harry looked at each other, and said in unison, "The terrace."

They were off and running. Harry shouted for someone to look after Draco. Lucius pursued, leaving Narcissa to weigh the urge to follow or stay behind. She had to know what was going on, and insisted Draco would be fine in the chair. She went after them. Lily and Sirius looked at one another, at Petunia, then followed.

Petunia was left with Draco. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what had made that sound. It bothered her stomach. Nervously, she took a seat on the chair arm, beside Draco's slumped body. She fluffed a pillow for him just to give herself something distracting. When she caught herself humming and brushing strands away from his face, she snatched her hand back, folded her arms, and waited tensely for everyone to return.

The sound of splintering wood and a loud bang, made her scream again. She turned in time to see Emerald's contorted limbs bursting through the lower panel of a storage closet. The girl rolled, sirt over head onto the carpet, where her body landed a meter from Petunia. Emerald bounced up before she could say a word. Missing one shoe and limping, she tripped over an old fashioned carpet sweeper that had fallen out with her. She offered an apologetic smile, looked longingly at Draco, and said, "He's pretty!" before taking off after the others.

Petunia examined the broken door and the mess she'd left spilling out. She could see that a shelf had broken, probably under the girl's weight, causing an avalanche of boxes. Behind them, a narrow space opened further into the interior of the house. She saw the old corridor between the walls, where she and Lily used to play. Well, where Lily used to try to get her to come, but she'd been terrified of the idea there were spiders in there. It only took one romp into a web bigger than her whole body once, to put her off spidery places for life. She'd been ten and chasing after her carefree sister through the woods. She should've known Lily would simply avoid the nest while she ran right into it. She'd screamed and cried the whole time Lily worked to pulled those tiny red spiders out of her hair. They were smaller than the head of a nail, but still creepy.

Emerald, that sneaky child, had been using the closet system to spy on everyone. Lily had always told her it was fun in there, that the inner corridor led to the back of every closet in almost every major room. Gamy explained that the space was originally meant to be like a safe-room, against home invasion if wards ever failed for any reason. There was a time when magical families were not safe. There were old stories of hiding witches and wizards during various wars when nonmagics hunted them. The old families started building that way, thinking ahead. Lily spoke of trunks and artifacts hidden between the walls. There were even places that were wide enough to lay down and sleep. The cots were still there, like in a bomb shelter. She'd seen shelves of food and toys, as if people were intended to pass through, like some kind of underground conspiracy. That had horrified Petunia. That, the dark, her claustrophobia, and the spiders kept her out. She didn't have magic to keep the spiders off of her the way Lily did.

Apparently, insects were the last things on Emerald's mind. Not when the house was buzzing with cute guys and excitement. Petunia saw that the girl didn't give herself time to worry about spiders or anything at all. Instead of being outraged by her antics, she was a little impressed. It was an amazing house and she wished she'd been as brave as Lily during their childhood. Not all of her neurosis could be blamed on growing up the only magicless person in a house filled with it. There was just too much to worry about. How like everyone to go off running towards danger when this boy lay helpless and unattended to. Even his parents. See, nobody fretted the way she did. Worry was her curse, the antithesis to all magic, and she bore it in silence.

She looked at Draco and returned to the arm of his chair.

At that moment, James, leading the others to the terrace, ran headlong into Remus and Gamy. He'd been moving so fast, he had to skid to a halt or barrel into them.

They spoke at the same time. Remus, "No one can leave."

James, "Guests on the terrace."

Gamy leaned on her cane, waving her hand. "Everyone is inside now, safe and dry. We'll have to wait out the storm."

"But what's out there? What was that noise?"

Remus shook his head. "I can't tell you. I heard it, couldn't see it. It's too dark. There's not enough clearance to see above the roof. We should head upstairs, not down. Perhaps I can crawl onto the roof."

Gamy looked sharply at him. "You will do no such thing. If I thought it was safe, I'd open the attic terrace and let you all traipse up there to have your fill. But it's not. Whatever's going on, we'll sit tight and wait it out."

James held out his hands. "But something's out there."

"Yes, and humble as it is, this house is all the magical fortress that we need. All of our strength is in here. If you need a visual, then use all that technology your son talked you into buying. Surely you can see all around the place without standing on a bloody roof in the middle of a lightning storm."

James closed his mouth. Maybe she was right, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that muggle security cameras don't always produce quality imaging in wet weather, not even those equipped with night vision. It wasn't like her to avoid facing the source of things.

"Gamy, what's going on?" The question caused him, and everyone else behind him, to lean closer to hear her.

She smoothed her hair, not satisfied till she felt the pins in their proper places. Her compressed lips indicated that she was indeed not telling all that she knew.

"I've tried sending everyone home. It doesn't work. But people can apparate inside. Every five minutes, someone new arrives to tell me there's a dragon above the house. Even muggle neighbors see a strange storm, if they don't see the creature itself. The phone won't stop ringing, so I've silenced it and charmed it to return calls with a cheerful message that we're all doing fine. I can't get outside to camouflage the appearance, so we may receive a little unwanted attention. News helicopters and all that nonsense."

All of them needed time picking their jaws up off the floor.

Narcissa sharply to Harry. "Are you doing this? Is this your magic?"

He stammered, unsure of what to tell her, before turning back to his Gamy. "A dragon?"

She nodded, releasing the confirmation reluctantly. She knew the significance it would have for him. Surely his parents had filled her in on the whole negotiations fiasco yesterday.

"How is that possible?" He stepped on his father's feet to get in front of her. His brow furrowed, alarmed and excited at the same time. "What's it mean?"

She looked at him as if every question cost her something she didn't want to give up. But his needs were greater. "It means we're in for a long night. No one is leaving. And evidently, the magic wants as many people who love you, in attendance as possible. Where's Draco? You got him out, I take it?"

"Yeah, he's collapsed. He's not well. Can we get a doctor here?"

She nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "I'll see what I can do. Storms like this produce tunnel clouds, like an upside down funnel. Huge at the bottom, small at the top. They spiral to and from other places. We have a window before the top closes. When it does, I don't think anyone will be able to apparate inside anymore. We're being given time to prepare."

They all asked in unison, "Prepare for what!" Even Narcissa and Lucius shuffled forward, bearing down on Lily and James' back.

"For things like this, like figuring out how to contact a doctor on the outside. And where to put the guests. How to make everyone comfortable."

"Mother," Lilly demanded, "have you seen something like this before? What's going on?"

Gamy raised her hand as if to shush her. "I have never seen this precise occurrence before. But I've seen magic take a stand. And let me tell you, when it locks the doors, it is trying to accomplish something. It wants everyone where they are. Ours is benevolent, I've trusted that all my life. If you try to fight it, you're going to end up on the wrong side of things. We've just had a marriage. An uneasy one. The family dynamics have changed. My guess is, there will be an attempt to smooth all the rough edges between these two, magically. What they can't resolve, the influence will try to resolve for them."

"So, we're not in danger?" Lily asked.

Gamy's eyes softened. "As long as we cooperate with the magic, we're not. It's not trying to harm anyone. It's like an animal with its own instincts and nature. It might show you frightening teeth at times, but it's no more evil than a tiger. Stay out of the tiger's way, and you won't get hurt."

Harry didn't find that at all comforting. He suspected none of them did.

She said directly to James and Remus, "Don't go up on that roof. That creature doesn't want to be here anymore than we want it here. It'll leave when its job is over. The whole storm will go. I've called for two more helpers with food and your cousins are making sure everyone is being looked after. There's nothing to do but wait it out."

Harry's gut went tight. "But that's his patronis. Draco's patronis. It's been building since yesterday? Is there something else wrong? Should we wake him? Give him dreamless sleep medicine? He doesn't even know he's doing it."

She stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Hush, don't you dare think this is something you can fix for him. You and he are joined in life now, and your magic knows what to do. It hasn't let you down yet. This isn't something he's doing by himself. You're both involved. You're both problem-solving with your magic. Let it do the work, and don't let the dragon upset you. Don't wake him. I know you want answers, and I don't really have any. But if he's out, it's because the magic wants him out. There's no telling what he's doing from his side of things. Don't let his sleep fool you. He's working very hard to make things right. If he wasn't, your magic would not be feeding his dragon to keep that hole in the sky open. You're doing this together. The energy between you two, is just trying to restore balance, like any storm. Now get him to a guest room and get him settled. Take Mr. Malfoy with you, and let their little elf do all the work. If anyone can get a doctor in here, it's that little creature."

Now that time had become a factor, Harry had to fight his urge to fling himself over the terrace to get a peek at that dragon. He turned to Lucius, "Can your elf bring a doctor here?"

Caught off guard, Lucius blinked excessively and stuttered. "I, I'm sure he can. If it's at all possible. There's no telling what this storm is going to-"

"Good. Get on it. And have him help us get Draco to bed. Come with me, I'll show you where that is. I plan on waiting out this night with him. Your elf can chaperon us if that makes you happy, but I will stay in the same room with him. I'm sorry that you can't leave, but there's an underground passage back to the guest house. Have your servant bring you whatever you need to be comfortable, I don't know how long this will last. If what Gamy says is right, your elf may not be able to come and go at will all night. There's a time limit."

Narcissa grabbed Lucius lapel. "Darling, what if we can apparate alongside Vanilli? We should try it, at least. That may get Draco to a doctor faster."

That must've been the name of their elf. Harry all but rolled his eyes. They couldn't know Gamy the way he did. If she said no one can leave, that meant wizards could not apparate out, not even with an elf. But he knew he had to let them find out for themselves.

He inched past Remus and his grandmother. While the Malfoys wasted time being idiots, he had to get a look at that dragon. His father squinted at him and knew what he was thinking.

"Harry, no!"

Too late. He took off. His family may not know how to scale the masonry adjacent to the terrace, but he did. This house was a kid's jungle gym on steroids. Between his magic and the right pair of trainers, he could make it to the second floor windows in some sections of the house, if he concentrated very hard. If he did it fast, they wouldn't have time to worry. He had to see.

With his parents calling behind him, he ran through the house. To get to the other side, he had to pass through the family room where guests milled about, drinking and eating hors d'oeuvres. He was sure they were discussing the dramatic weather and speculating on his disastrous marriage keeping them all prisoner there. He ignore the relatives who called out to him, apologizing to them in his mind. People kept stepping into his path, trying to talk to him. Dudley was here, eating cake. That was a surprise. Did he even want to know? Emerald was here. She pounced on his arm.

"I'm so excited for you!"

"Thank you, sweetie, can't talk now."

He untangled himself from her. More cousins, a great uncle, two great aunts. He dodged them all and made it across the hall to the french doors where rain beat like bullets. It never dawned on him that guests would try to follow. He wrestled the doors open against the wind, sending torrents of watery gusts into the house. He couldn't close them. People were blown back and drenched with spray from winds that were in excess of thirty miles per hour. That was the kind of wind that took sides off of houses. Harry held onto the knob, braced his footing, and charged out into the storm.

Outdoor furniture, what wasn't bolted down, had already blown away. It was as dark as a summer evening, and if he'd been superstitious, he would've sworn that God was angry. But he wasn't, so he slipped along wet tiles, gripping the banister to find his way while squinting through torrents of wind and water, that made him fight for every step. Now he understood what Sirius had meant. His mother was right. No one could drive in this mess.

He reached the edge of the terrace, barely heard his name, and turned to see his father following the same method of staying upright and coming after him.

In good weather, when he was a kid, he would've used a charm to make his body weight seem lighter as he hoisted himself along the niches found in the stone. But in this weather, he was afraid of making himself lighter. The wind might blow him away. So he gripped the old indentations and imperfections in the masonry, feeling for them by memory. This was how he used to sneak in after curfew, when he had one. He knew the wall like an old friend. Aside from the wind and added slickness, the real problem was his shoes. He was wearing dress shoes, and they ruined the needed traction. He kicked them off. Sock feet were better than slick soles, though he knew he'd scrape them up. It'd be worth it. He had to do it.

It got him the traction he needed, but his grip worked overtime to get him to the ledge of the next floor. By the time he pulled himself up, his fingertips were burning and his knuckles cramping. He threw his leg over onto the ledge. Stone bit into his knees and he eased his way into a standing position. He was here to clear the blocked view of the roof's edge. The terrace was one of the few places where he could peer out farther than the eves extended. It had a roof, which was why he'd had to climb above it.

Overhead, only dark clouds boiled over the garden. When lightning flashed, it looked normal. Powerful, but normal. He was starting to shiver hard. His clothes were soaked through and he might as well have been standing on his rooftop naked, for all the protection he had. But he waited, praying to see what he needed to see.

"Show yourself," he told Draco's magic.

Thunder billowed so loudly, there was no mistaking a dragon's roar suffused deep inside it. It moved the clouds, not dispersing them, but increasing the diameter of their lowest rings. They circled the house and he could not see where they began and ended. But he saw them ignite with a green glow just as stunning as the North's Aurora Borealis, and watched it sizzle the dark with embers of fury. For one second, it was like a green sun came out, shining just enough light to cast the shadow of a fearsome beast against the clouds, before turning off again. Harry saw an impossible wingspan that could've engulfed his whole house. He saw the shadow of the thing lift in flight. And when it belted another rumble from inside the clouds, that sound scraped the bowels of his soul. He changed his mind. He didn't want to see the real face of that thing. He'd seen enough.

Was Draco getting back at him and his family? Was this a sign of some offense? Was this dragon at war with them? Was it even physical, and not some manifestation deciding to haunt them? He decided these questions were better answered inside, in dry clothes. He didn't think he could pull himself into a window. Not now. It was easier to go back down than up. A stiffening chill had slowed his movements and was beginning to numb his wet toes. He could barely feel his way down with them. He proceeded cautiously until he felt the railing under his heels. By then, his father and Sirius were yelling at him, soaking wet themselves, and he let himself fall into their arms. They drug him back through the doors, where he tried to stand, but found himself gasping and dripping on his knees. Someone brought him a towel. They were speaking to him, but all he could hear was the dragon promising retribution in his head. What had he doomed his family to?

He looked up. Across the hall, some twenty guests and relatives, stared back at him, unsure of what to do. He was vaguely aware of his mother fussing with running the towel over his hair, and Lucius, pale and silent, staring down at him. Narcissa, shaken by whatever she saw, backed away into the crowd. He knew she was running to check on Draco, the same thing he should've been doing.

But he needed a moment. He had to figure out what all this meant. He had to brace himself. If Draco didn't wake up and talk to him, how could he know what to do?

Remus and Gamy persuaded everyone to go back inside to their drinks and conversations. Sirius and James helped him to his feet.

"Harry," James admonished, "Draco is going to need you. Get yourself cleaned up. If Gamy's right, you can't go flying off like that. Trust your magic."

He nodded, but looked at Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, do whatever it takes to get Draco a doctor. Hurry. Your son's dragon is out there, and it's pissed. I'd annul this marriage right now, to keep everyone safe, if I could."

As he said it, he vowed to himself that no piece of paper controlled what he felt. "Please send your elf to bring back help for him. I don't know what's going to happen, but Draco's feelings in all this, are essential. I want to make him happy. Please, go."

Lucius's mouth was fixed to argue, but he appeared to think better of it. Turning, he left Harry to accomplish what he'd been asked to do.

* * *

**Note 1**: The next chapter is written and will be posted very soon, likely tonight or tomorrow. And as always, thank you to all the readers who commented so sweetly and left kudos. It's a joy to write for you! :-) 3

**Note 2**: About apparating, I'm using the one-word covers it all method. The distinction of 'dis-apparating' and having two different words for coming and going, is tediously unnecessary to me. It's a creative choice. Sorry, I've got a story to get on with and it grows more challenging as the plot winds tighter. All unnecessary words must go. :-)

**Note 3**: **Emerald Lupin Black** is the portrait invention of Angel Moline, who created this picture of her and asked anyone to give it a name. She liked the names I suggested, and I really liked the portrait. The idea of her stuck and as my love for Sirius and Remus grew, I decided that she's perfect for this story. Her characterization may be very different than what the artist intended, as I made all of that up. :-)

The pic isn't visible here, but you'll find it on my A-O-3 account.


	7. Sleeping Secrets

Harry's shower was actually a five minute rinse. He raced to put on dry clothes and oversee Draco's move to an upstairs bed. Gamy made him eat a sandwich in front of her, before she let him go see Draco.

"Give his parents time to get him settled. The elf got him into pajamas and is going to fetch a doctor. It won't kill you or him to take one minute to feed your body. You'll need your strength if you're going to try to sit up with him."

He ate in record time, just to get back upstairs. Once there, he had to wait outside the door with Narcissa, until the little creature signaled that Draco was decent.

Harry entered behind her, and could've wept for the strange acceptance that washed over him, at seeing Draco asleep under the covers. His pale hair looked so foreign against midnight blue sheets. Especially the way it now fell across his forehead. He almost looked like a normal, average person, in light gray pajamas that revealed something more of his personal tastes. Unlike Harry's wrinkled PJ's, when he actually wore them, Draco's were pressed and smooth, with the monogram, DM on the shirt pocket. A matching robe lay at the foot of the bed. On the other side of his lamp table, a small case of personal items waited for his use when he woke up. In sleep, his face was defenseless. And Harry saw that 'almost normal' was apt. There was something about him, like an unopened gift no one suspected, that had a secret allure.

Maybe he was just excited that Draco was under his roof still, and finally sleeping in his family's bed, even if it wasn't his personal one. Close enough. Never mind what the hell was going on outside. He knew it was wrong, but he was proud of this moment. He tried to be patient as Narcissa sat down on the bed and pushed her son's hair back.

She leaned over him and whispered, "We're right here, sweetheart. We haven't given you up. We haven't abandoned you. Anything you want, we're right here."

Harry turned away as she kissed him. He was about to ask if he should leave, when she stood and announced, "Our elf will check on him through the night. We'll be in ourselves, but you two… "

She looked as though she lost her thought. Then she swallowed and met his eyes full on. "Old laws say that you have rights. I'm asking you… No, I'm appealing to you, begging you, don't touch him. Not yet. Not in this state. It would be a gross betrayal."

What kind of a monster did she think he was? He was too shocked to interrupt her.

"I don't mean to assume that you have no morals, or to insult you, but that has to be said. My son is vulnerable and you're holding all the cards, Mr. Potter. Put yourself in my position, knowing that I have to honor your marriage or there's no telling what's going to happen. We have no means of leaving. I'm desperate. I'd guard his body myself, except that I think that you must have some decency within you, or Draco's magic would never have entertained you as suitable to begin with. We could never have come this far. We never have before. As his mother, I have to say some harsh things in order to make myself understood."

Her voice was beginning to crack and he decided to let her off the hook.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I give you my word that I'm not going to lay a hand on Draco. He's sick and I'm not turned on by that. Everytime you or your elf shows up, you'll see me behaving myself. I want to impress Draco more than I want to impress you. That's not going to happen if I take advantage of him, now is it?"

He too could camouflage harsh feelings with polite words.

She closed her eyes as if she knew she'd stooped lower than he. "I'm sorry. That's my son and I'll do whatever I have to, to keep him safe." As if that was an apology, she strode past him and walked out.

Instead of being upset, he felt badly for her. It must suck being constantly afraid that people wanted to take things from you all the time. A normal family would've been thankful for his family's hospitality, happy that Draco was safe, and left it at that.

But he did understand her. He closed the door behind her and looked back to the bed. All that slender refinement was his. He hated himself for loving that, but that's all he could feel at the moment. His. And no one could take it away. He felt like he'd graduated. His life meant more now, than it had yesterday. A real human being had been given to him to care for. He was not going to fail.

Oh no, maybe he was turning into a Malfoy. Honestly, were his feelings any different than Narcissa's? He now had something that someone might be tempted to take away. He'd never had that before, and it was establishing roots of paranoia. He decided to forgive her. You can't know what people are going through, till you've gone through the same thing. He'd never had anything this splendid in his bed before. Of course he was going to sexualize it like the prize that it was, even if he never uttered one word about that or even touched Draco. That magic was there, in the ambiance of the room, in Draco's reposed form and closed eyelids. His complete submission. And Harry was careful to dim the lights and keep his hands to himself. He'd never been much for church, but he knew a religious experience when he felt it. This was everything.

He set the bedside lamp on its lowest setting. Thunder rumbled overhead and he thought he heard the dragon. He spoke to Draco.

"What are you doing with that thing?"

As his mind searched for answers, he recalled the last twenty-four hours and all the different facets he'd seen of Draco so far. Enraged, sad, violent. But his mind struggled to recall something else. Something so brief, he could've easily forgotten about it. There'd been another dragon. A steep hillside, and a blond young man harnessed to ride among the clouds. There'd been sun. It shone on the highlights of Draco's hair so brightly, that they matched the white of his teeth. And what a smile. Maybe because he wasn't used to seeing it, or maybe because it really was that beautiful, either way, the memory of it gave Harry an opiate warmth that dismissed all the bad stuff as irrelevant.

He leaned over Draco. "I saw the real you. In that vision. Did you see the real me?"

Something about him was worth all of this. He just couldn't name it. It had been in that vision. If that was who Draco really was, then this was going to be the best marriage ever. No matter what. Nothing could make him regret it. Not even a fucking dragon. He was tempted to get on the internet and start looking up customized pianos, just to get ideas. But that only brought the documentary back to him, and he wanted to watch it again. He needed to see how Draco leaned into his music, into the notes he played, so that his body rode out the tide of each frequency and tone. He saw him moving around on the piano bench, and wanted more of that sensual, long wasted, long-limbed musculature. He was thin, but his arms looked strong and shapely enough in that black muggle T-shirt he'd worn. How he held nothing back as he played. He wasn't embarrassed to let emotion move his body around. Somehow, Harry had to get to that level of him. That was the real Draco. And until he did, he'd willingly put up with all the protective, angry levels of him that put everyone else off. He'd stand up to his family if he had to. If they ran out of patience.

As he stood there, reflecting on all the good that he'd seen, his mind flashed to bloody tile prints. Immediately, he regretted telling Mrs. Malfoy that he wouldn't touch Draco. He had to get a better look at those hands. He felt guilty, but he picked one up and turned it over. He gave himself more light. He turned Draco's hand back and forth. Just as he'd suspected. There were no bruises and no signs of broken skin. He sighed with grim obligation and took out his wand.

He said the charm for undoing glamours. He waved it the length of Draco's body and braced himself.

The change came, but not as he expected. It was subtle at first, but the effects grew stronger. Draco's face thinned a bit, like he'd lost ten pounds. His hair got lighter, as if each follicle held a tiny fiber optic that shined through the entire strand. His cheeks got sharper, and his pajamas looser. Shadows appeared under his eyes. His lips were brightly chapped, as if dehydrated, and Harry thought he saw broken blood vessels marring his neck. He didn't dare pull the covers down to see anything more.

It was strange, like Draco had used a glamour to tone down his beauty. He'd obviously done it to hide the fact that he wasn't feeling well, and wasn't looking well, but even sick, he was still the most beautiful person Harry had ever seen. He picked up his hand again. This time, the bruises and bloody skin was back. The blood was now a dry film and caked. There was no telling how long he'd been doing this to himself, smashing his hands against walls. He must've been using a charm anesthetic. Harry couldn't see these hands playing a piano any time soon.

He swallowed his anger and said to Draco, "I'll get you to tell me what this is all about. I'm here to take care of you and you don't have to do this anymore."

He set about cleansing and sterilizing Draco's hands. Instead of magic, he went to the adjoining bathroom and used a soap caddy for a bowl of warm water, and a cloth. He sat on the bed and gently dabbed between Draco's fingers.

"I don't care if I wake you up. I hope I do." His voice hung in the silence. Outside, the rain could still be heard and every now and then, the dragon let everyone know that it was still there.

"Why would you do this to yourself?" You're a grown man, not a child, he thought but didn't say. Doctors now knew that even comatose patients still had sensory input, even if they couldn't get any response out. Draco could very well hear him.

"When you talk to me, the way we talked in that vision. That dream or whaever, you'll see that I'm a really nice guy. You won't feel threatened. We'll travel. I could help you in your work. You know, carry your bags, make sure you eat well, provide security, that sort of thing."

He made himself laugh. "Seriously, I'd be a jealous husband. I'd have to keep my eye on you, and you'd let me, because you're the bigger man. In a perfect world, anyway."

He kept talking, kept trying to find pleasant things to say, to distract from the evidence before him. He knew he was going to have to have another difficult conversation with Draco, to find out what his hands were all about, if they survived this night. His poor husband.

For a moment he wondered if he could get away with one small kiss. Just lean in and do it. But something in him wanted to prove Mrs. Malfoy right. He would prove himself exceptionally decent, even if it killed him. Not that he wanted to do anything more than that. But it just seemed that the closer they were together since last night, the more their relationship was going wanting. Denying himself or Draco a kiss, just felt cruel. Yet he knew Mrs. Malfoy was testing him, and he so wanted to pass that test. He wouldn't risk it.

As he wrapped Draco's hands in bandages, wondering if the elf couldn't get a doctor through, another idea occurred to him. What if…

He dismissed it, but kept glancing at Draco's lips. What if the dragon was pissed about the marriage for a different reason? There's no telling what was in that contract. Lucius had specified a Consummation of Marriage. What if the dragon was waiting on them to honor their contractual duties, to make it real? What if everyone in this house was being held waiting, simply because they hadn't taken that age-old step?

"You're fantasizing," Harry told himself. He knew he was. He had a right to. All this perfection beside him, in his bed even, and he couldn't even give it an innocent kiss.

"You know how I know you're my husband?" He waited, as if Draco could answer. "Washing this blood off your hands, feels more meaningful, more satisfying to me, than any date I've ever brought home. And no one's ever stayed more than two nights. If we're still here tomorrow, you've beaten the record."

He smiled as if congratulating himself on his humor. "And as much as I want to kiss you, I think it's great that I'm the one staying in here, doing this for you. You'd hate it, so I'm glad you're asleep. I feel like the Universe put you in my bed. Not my personal bed, but close enough. So until you're ready, I'm happy with this for now. Whatever the hell your dragon is doing, I'm glad we have this time together. You're gonna wake up and you're gonna see that I'm an okay guy."

Finished wrapping gauze, he smoothed the bandage on Draco's hand. "I may not know things about you, but I love everything I've seen of you. Even your anger. If something's wrong in our household, I won't have to worry about you trying to hide it. You'd blame me for it and shut me out until I fixed it. I can live with that. I hope to God you accept me."

He leaned in close and listened for Draco's breath. "They've already stopped me from kissing you. I'll be damned if they stop me from saying I love you. I don't care that we've never met until yesterday. When I want something this much, it's because I know it from another place. Another time. You can fool my eyes. But you can't fool my soul. I love you, Draco Malfoy, even if your dragon kills me. Parents bring home newborn babies all the time, and are so in love with the little strangers, they don't stop themselves from saying it over and over again, like lunatics. Well, you're a stranger in my home, but I know what I feel. And I feel I know you, I just don't have the words for where or when. I have just as much right to say it as those parents who might be raising the worst people on the planet. I love you, I'm crazy about you, and I'm not giving that up just because it sounds irrational. That fucking dragon is irrational, yet it's up there, isn't it?"

Draco's mouth twitched. It was slack, and Harry wanted to think that amusement found its way to him at the deepest levels of sleep. That beautiful mouth. One day, it was going to happen. He'd know what it felt like. For now, he inhaled the starch of Draco's pajamas and let that be enough. This was closer than he'd been last night. It was something.

Just as he was about to lean away and go back to the chair, Draco mumbled. He waited, pretty sure it was nonsense.

"What was that? Have I persuaded you to talk?"

Draco's eyes opened to glass slits. Gray-blue intelligence barely held Harry in their focus. Those pupils couldn't tell him if Draco was really awake, but his hand on Harry's arm, did. For a moment his face crinkled like a child's and hot tears spilled into the hair at his temples. He choked and said, "I didn't mean to hurt my baby. I didn't mean to."

As if the thought was too much to bear, his body gave up on that last gut-wrenching sob, and his head went limp again, turning away from Harry.

Magic understood Draco's words faster than Harry could. That's why he was shaking. That's why he was panicking inside, like parts of him were shattering. Draco's words, conscious or not, believable or not, had the same effect. They left Harry in jagged edges, skewered and fumbling for his foothold into the real world.

He drew close to Draco's ear. "What? What did you just say?"

Just then, a knock at the door preceded its opening. James Potter had hardly announce that he was coming in with the doctor, before he was actually inside and ushering the wizard to the bed. Harry tried to speak, to tell them that Draco was talking, but between his hesitation to admit what he'd heard, and the doctor's urgency, his mouth opened onto nothing. James looked embarrassed for him, took him by the shoulder and guided him away.

"Let the doctor have a look now, you've been by Draco's side long enough. Shouldn't take long. I promise, we'll know something soon and you two will have another night to get to know each other better. Come on, Harry. He'll be fine."

Harry let himself be guided out the door, rather than speak of what he'd just heard.

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Thanks for reading so far. Thanks for all the positive comments! :-)


	8. Distress Signal

Note: I am literally writing the last chapter as I post this (ch 20 will possibly be split if it's too long). All chapters are expected to be uploaded within the next few days. WARNING/REMINDER: Draco's secret is pretty dramatic, be willing to skip parts that make you uncomfortable. The story will have a happy ending.

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It didn't add up. That beautiful, gifted man. That horrible confession. Harry was so jarred by it, he took refuge away from his family. Beneath an isolated staircase, in the oldest part of the house, he stared out at watery shadows streaming down antique, rosebud wallpaper. All of it backlit by bursts of lightning, at a window framed from the floor to the next landing. Crammed in that little nook, was the original, connected table and seat, with crush velvet upholstery, that the Evans purchased exclusively for talking privately on their new muggle phone back in 1925. The rotary phone was still there too, kept dusted and shiny with house maintenance spells, because Gamy kept every era of her life on display in some form or another. She was proud of every ingredient in her life, even the bitter ones. Harry was sure that if he wanted to make a call, it would work, though it wasn't part of the updated circuitry found elsewhere. Electricity was mainly just for show, a commitment to blend in with a society that might never be ready to know the truth about witches. In all honesty, Gamy embraced her husband's non-magic world just as she embraced the magical one.

He wished he could call someone, but there was no one to call. He kept telling himself that he'd misunderstood. That Draco was talking out of his mind, through a fever perhaps. But he didn't believe it. He couldn't let himself believe that Draco had done something as unspeakable as he implied. Wait. Learn the details before you assume the worst. He told Draco that he'd be willing to adopt any previous child. He would've said anything to instill confidence in him. Those were big words. No matter how heroic he was trying to be, he wasn't ready to be a father. But he'd get ready if his husband needed him to.

He couldn't sit idle. He came downstairs to keep from barging in on the doctor and shaking Draco to get real answers from him. He came to think and steady his nerves, without anyone asking him if he was okay. He wasn't okay. A brick sat in the place of his heart and that concrete tension was so uncomfortable, that he had to do something to shift it. He had to know more. He couldn't wait, no matter how hard he tried. Movement created the illusion that he was doing something, so he moved into the recessed panels under the stairs, closed them behind him, and took a steep and narrow set of different steps to the innermost corridor hidden within the walls.

Internally, the closet system comprised a landscape of aged wooden planks from an era of platform carpentry, to drywall renovations that stood on older, concrete additions, all extended in a maze of substructure, insulation, and wiring. In most places, bare floorboard spanned four feet wide, lessening to tight squeezes the closer one approached more secretive cavities and enclosures, and widening for spaces where multiple people could convene if they had to. In the livable portions, wall paper that was once cheerful, peeled over faded paint and raw timber displayed the house's architectural ribs which followed parallel to the dominant living spaces. There were no windows, but every now and then, a strategically placed spell, allowed one to see through external walls. Markings and runes denoted levels and quadrants. Very small and narrow doors led to bypasses and decoy passages. Symbols that only a witch or wizard could read, displayed entry points into bedroom closets, some of which were magically sealed off.

Within minutes, Harry found the one he needed, shook the sawdust from his hair, and let himself inside. The closet wasn't very big, and needed only a whispered word to get past its false backing. Technically, this was spying and he hated it, but he wasn't trying to invade anyone's privacy. He just needed to know more. He pressed forward into forgotten coats and blankets, and had to stop short of a cedar chest. Voices met him from inside the room and he carefully parted an inch to view the two people speaking. Lucius and the doctor stood over Draco, Lucius looking somewhat askance, as the covers had been pulled away and his son's bare torso lay exposed. Shirt open, his body revealed an expanse of smooth, hairless skin over mildly defined, slender muscles. Harry cursed himself and looked away, letting the gap in the coats close. This was flat out invasion of privacy and his flushed response at seeing all that skin, proved it. He couldn't reason it away and he couldn't turn back. He settled for guiltily closing his eyes against the risk of seeing more, and listened. But he'd already seen too much. Draco's head, turned to the side on his pillow, with all the rest of him glowing in the dim, was enough to stimulate inappropriate thoughts, even if he was sick. Harry couldn't unsee the way his narrow hips tapered down into the low rise of his draw string pajama trousers. Subtle definition, just in that second, told him what awaited him in that bed.

He couldn't believe he was acting like this, turning a glimpse of distress into a sexual component. But something said don't be too hard on yourself. You're only reacting to a wedding night denied you. You rose to accept this man and it was a mighty rising. You never wanted a husband before, so when you found you did, you brought everything to the forefront of your desire. You rushed, a hundred kilometers per hour, only to have to stop on a ten pence. You're being denied your husband, don't turn on yourself just because you have appropriate feelings at an inappropriate time. Your body is doing what it's supposed to do. Responding to his. When everyone clears out, it will be useful in gravitating the two of you together.

He ignored his guilt and embraced the logic of that. He'd rather Draco be angry at the lack of privacy than miss an opportunity to help him. Without looking into the room again, he listened.

"You see here," the doctor sounded as though he were pointing. "Along the clavicle, goes all the way to the ribs, and continues on down. Those white patches have become more pronounced in the short time I've been in here. At first I wasn't sure, 'cause he's quite pale. But the texture's even different. Coarser, with little bumps. It's not a curse, that's the first thing I checked for. He's come into contact with something that doesn't agree with him. Does he have any food allergies?"

"Certainly not."

Harry heard the offense in Lucius's voice.

"He is a pureblooded wizard. We do not get muggle allergies."

"Well, his fever is trying to drive out something."

Harry growled to himself. Draco hadn't eaten going on two days. A real father would mention that.

"My first wand scan showed only surface, cosmetic charms overlapping his magic. Nothing too alarming, but they've been applied over and over again. That's cause for concern. Digestive tension, elevated heart rate, and a rather dense concentration of stagnant energy around his hands and arms. This also shows up from his waist down. It's more demonstrative of emotional blockages than physical ones, but the blisters on his hands tell me his feelings have crossed that demarcation."

"I'm not interested in his feelings. Why is he out like this? Do you have an actual medical reason or not?"

"I'm doing the best I can, Mr. Malfoy. Since he can't talk to me, I have to look at his details from head to toe. Since there's nothing discordant in his blood check, I have to look for other clues. This is my second scan and I'm seeing things I didn't see before."

"A simple, 'I don't know,' would suffice."

"Please bear with me. This is strange. Your son has so much going on in the way of self-camelflage, I'm having to peel away the layers of his spellcraft. I know he's clamped down very tightly on his magic. That's what the dense shadows mean when I wave my wand down the length of him. In other places, like his head, I see that his energy field runs bright with a translucent color spectrum. That's healthy. But it goes opaque when I get to his hands. He's cut his head off from his body, so to speak. An act of self-preservation. I can't see through the density, which tells me he's been in emotional pain for quite some time. This doesn't happen over night. If his hands are bursting open with wounds, it's only a matter of time before the other dense areas find ways to express his distress. It would be remiss of me to say that 'I don't know,' what's wrong with your son. I do indeed know that he requires a specialist of the mind. His symptoms would appear to stem from the secretive nature of these shadowy areas, which are hiding his true ailments. My scans can't see past those."

Judging by the pause, Harry concluded that Lucius wasn't expecting the doctor to disagree with him. He would've sneered with satisfaction, had the man's words not given him further cause to worry. He gathered this was not the Malfoy's primary physician, but someone located on short notice. The doctor, a bowling pin-shape of a man, with a humble demeanor and equally humble height, spoke with a nervous grating in his voice. His tone was apologetic, but he didn't cave in under Lucius's pompous display of authority.

Harry had only caught a glimpse of him. An impression of oiled, thin hair and glasses, he struck Harry as competent enough to accept his limitations with grace and honesty. He continued to talk of Draco's magic being affected by his emotions, to the point of being hidden by them. With his head turned away from them, Harry listened. The doctor's voice moved, indicating his changing positions around the bed. Lucius, apparently, wasn't convinced of anything he was hearing.

"Are you saying this is all in his head? His symptoms are no more valid than a bout of hysteria?"

"His symptoms are valid, no matter what's causing them. We simply have to work with them from the appropriate angle."

"I would think that a mediwizard of your paygrade, would be able to counter whatever effects you find. Reduce his fever at once, or am I asking the impossible?"

The doctor produced a laugh. Not a real one, but the one that comes when any proud person's character is called into question with the vicious flippancy that only Lucius could provide.

"With all due respect, it's not as simple as that. And my retainer covers the inconvenience of being detained with you. I wouldn't use magic on him until I know the cause for sure. If the source is benign, a simple counter spell might help him. But if the root of the cause has to do with constraints on his magic, whether his spells or another's, the wrong treatment will have adverse effects."

"I'm telling you, it's that damn boy's renegade magic. My son is being attacked with it."

"There are no hostile influences surrounding your son. Everything I see, is coming directly from him. It's as if he's accepting a reduction in his magic. This is typically seen in patients who suffer from excessive anxiety or guilt. The deeper my scan goes, the less I'm able to see. There very well may be another party involved, but your son is a willing participant, evidenced by his submerged magic."

"What tells you there's another person involved, if it's not this Potter fellow?"

"Concealment Syndrome. No one can know for sure without talking to him. But the symbolic way in which he has separated his intellect from his instincts, head from body and blocked off so much of his vitality in order to maintain the illusion that he's well, indicates that his choices are tied to the expectations of another. Perhaps more than one person."

Lucius gave such a forceful sigh, his contempt hissed in Harry's ears.

"That is the most convoluted way of referring to peer pressure that I've ever heard. My son is made of stronger than that. That weakness was bred from our line centuries ago. Recalculate your findings."

"Well, sir, I'm no psychotherapist. I don't specialize in the mental arts, but neither can I ignore them. I'm trying not to commit to any statement that I can't prove. What I'm trying to say is, your son is overwhelmed by something or someone. He's given his power to it. He has his secrets for a reason. All I see when I look at him are layers of self-induced spells to help him cover up or cope. People who do that are usually covering up for someone. They feel it's an unsolvable problem. Hence, the complexity of it lies with another human being and not simply external circumstances."

"Stick to the medical facts, please."

"Since I can't prove any of that, which far exceed my professional scope, I will have to rely on your compassion to consider what or who has the ability to cause your son to live in such magical confinement. These are the types of cues we see in prisoners of war. Not to exploit his privacy, but there are even celibacy charms forced into place. The name, Concealment Syndrome, actually comes from survivors of the muggle Holocaust, in connection to those they felt responsible for. For many witches and wizards, their magic was drained under the effort of hiding and protecting victims of the war, to the point that they never recovered from it. It doesn't happen overnight, but it's the equivalent of magical suicide. The question isn't who's hurting him. It's whom would he hurt himself this much for?"

Lucius sniffed. "You're a wizard and a doctor. Is it too much to leave all these feelings out of the equation and treat his physical body?"

"No, sir. One affects the other. I will try to rouse him. I will proceed with caution and resort to muggle conventions to keep from stressing his magic further. His physiology is similar enough. But I warn you, it might make his symptoms worse, at first. He's put up his own defenses. If they're triggered, he's the one getting hurt, not others. Meanwhile, consider being honest with me and yourself. You've brought me to a house drenched in archaic magic. I'm told that people are trapped here. And while I haven't seen any mythical beasts, I certainly heard one. And now you're unable to wake your son, who's sleeping like a princess with a poisoned apple by his side. Just what magical contracts have you signed? And why?"

Lucius sputtered, "You're being paid to concentrate your energies upon my son's recovery, not my personal affairs. A doctor of your repute should know better."

"I am a man first, a doctor second. I have children and I know what sacrificial obligations look like. I see them, you know. All over him. They look like knots tying off entire arteries of his magic, redirecting it to layers I'm not allowed to see. I can tell the ones that were put there before his birth and the ones that came after. I don't have the ability to read those contracts, but you must know that you had him over extended before he even came to you. Perhaps this quasi coma is his way of begging for a reprieve in whatever plans have you in this house to begin with."

Lucius's outrage sounded incoherent before he put an intelligent sentence together. "You have overstepped your bound, sir. No one casts judgment on how I've raised my son."

"You wanted my diagnosis. You have it. I require more time with him if you would put his needs first. I must break through some of these charms. If you wish to continue my services, please leave me to my patient and my best judgment. If I can't rouse him in an hour, we'll have to make other arrangements."

Apparently, the threat of being unable to wake Draco, stunned Lucius into silence. Harry could almost picture him turning sharply, as if he were the one giving the orders. The sound of the door closing behind him, told him that Lucius was gone and he should leave too.

Back in the phone nook, he struggled to piece together the doctor's assessment. Layers of protection cutting off Draco's magic? A willing participant in someone else's desires? If his magic was so cut off, how was that dragon possible? As soon as he thought it, the question answered itself. Because the dragon was the magic being cut off. It was the part that was raging to get Draco to assimilate it again.

He startled when someone called his name.

"Sorry, we didn't mean to startle you." Hermione's head bobbed over the railing, followed by Ron's heavier footfalls as he rounded behind her. "Your mother said you'd be down here."

Ron lurched forward as a third set of steps bumped into him. "Watch it."

"Sorry, mate. You gonna stop there or keep going?"

Harry recognized that soft timbre anywhere. Blaise.

He tried to make his smile look believable. "You guys! You got through."

Yay. He loved his best mates, but not only did he want to concentrate exclusively on Draco at the moment, these three were probably going to be trapped in the house with everyone all evening.

He let them rush around the banister to hug him.

"Your wedding day," Hermione sniffed. Her thin arms trembled around his neck. "How could we miss it!"

"Because it wasn't bloody planned, that's how." Ron looked insulted. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

Harry twisted gently from her embrace. "It's a mess, I know. Everything happened so fast."

When he tried to shake Blaise's hand, who'd offered it formally, he was deceived and pulled into a hug that couldn't be broken as easily as Hermione's.

"Dude! You said you'd never do it. Gotcha. Couldn't escape the gravity, could you?" Blaise's embrace was exuberant, filled with riotous laughter, and he rocked Harry from side to side. "My good man."

Harry endured the affection, waiting until he was released.

Ron, who'd known him the longest, sounded territorial. "Leave him alone. Can't you see the man's lost in thought? Down here in the shadows, probably wondering what the hell's got him making the biggest mistake of his life?"

For that, both Blaise and Hermione turned frowns on him.

"Nice," Blaise assessed Ron's tact. "Support. That's what I look for in a friend."

"I'm only saying what everyone's thinking. I'm not about to smile in his face and pretend everything's all right."

Harry appreciated that. He'd grown up with Ron and Hermione, and met Blaise in grade school. They were the closest friends he had. She'd graduated from a Wizarding education system, but started her teaching intern at the local muggle university. Ron had his own business repairing muggle cars with magic, and Blaise ran his family's "winery," which specialized in recreational potions. He had a bottle with him now.

Harry cherished them, but now was a bad time. "You guys, I'm sorry, I should've warned you. People can't leave."

Blaise held up his bottle. "Cool. That means we can probably drink sooner than I thought. I've got ten more bottles of this season's new line. Donating them to the cause."

"No, I'm serious. I didn't contact anyone because the last twenty-four hours have been crazy. Did anyone tell you there's a dragon over our house?"

Hermione's eyes grew huge. "Yes. I saw it! I told you, Ron." Her hair whipped around as she confronted him. "Harry's house was on muggle television. This unnatural phenomena looks like a weather anomaly to them. They can see the green clouds, but they can't see the dragon. My mother was so curious, she insisted that I turn on the telly, it was all I could do to keep from telling her what I know."

"Holy crap." Ron put his hands on the hips of his jeans. "That's all you need. The paranormal ghost hunters will be coming out of the woodwork to dig up history on this place."

"Quite honestly, I don't care. I can't think about any of that right now. My husband is not okay. I don't feel like socializing. I apologize, but I've got bigger problems and he's upstairs asleep right now. And not well, I might add. What the hell I'm supposed to do with a house full of guests, I don't know. And now that you're here, you probably can't leave, so just ignore me, hang out, and I'll try to get the apparation sorted with my grandmother."

"Awww," Hermione melted. "He said 'husband.'" Glassy eyed, she put her hand to her mouth. "It's real."

Blaise held out a graceful, masculine hand. Three glasses with long wine stems appeared between his fingers. "You sound like a man who needs a drink."

The bottle he was carrying, levitated, ejecting foil and cork, and pouring a generous supply into each glass. The liquid swirled with crimson, glittery sparks.

"I call this sweet red blend, 'Troubles Don't Last.' Selected just for you. Traditional, with a hint of honey and clove."

"That's original," Hermione pointed out, folding her arms. "Naming it after psuedo-religious folkisms, saturated in 19th Century, African-Contemporary philosophy. Let your creative team go home a little early that day, did you?"

Blaise bowed as he extended his long arm out to her, stepping back to make a grand sweep of it. "My sweet lady, I am all that exists of the genius behind that name. Trust me when I say that this was created to get one past the most challenging of evenings. There's no shame in going back to my roots. The old people knew what they were talking about, and this is my salute to them. Refined to perfection. Class in a glass. I haven't been locked in my lab for the past two summers because I was making cotton candy."

She accepted, smiling in the spotlight of his million-dollar grin. To outsiders, her taunts might've been misinterpreted. But between them, it was another way to keep him attentive to her and talking. He didn't back down from friendly sparring, verbal or otherwise. They'd played like this for years and no one was ever really sure how serious they were. Maybe because he was always a perfect friend and gentleman, she felt safe enough with him to test her bravery. She and Ron were already ex's, but that friendship was sacred. She was too proud to admit anything so flight-headed and stereotypical as being the girl who kept falling in love with her friends. If she didn't admit it, then it didn't have to be true.

Everyone in the room knew that if she couldn't muster the courage to tell Blaise how she felt, risking yet another valuable relationship, it was only a matter of time before he found someone who would. As friends, they were all sitting silently on that time bomb. But it worked and they were comfortable. With her focus on teaching muggles about the realities of Extra-Natural Cultures, magical and otherwise, she got all the masculine attention she wanted between them, without the messy disruption of sex and obligations. So what if she was denying herself and her friends could see right through her. As long as they were respectful enough not to throw it in her face, she appeared content to flirt with Blaise indefinitely.

Clearly, the look they shared between them caused Harry to remind them that he was still standing there. "Uh, guys, I don't know if I should be drinking."

Ron reached between everybody and snatched his glass from Blaise. "To hell with it. That's the only thing this bloke's got right." He threw it back and downed it like it was whiskey.

Harry accepted his share, but his sip was tentative and polite. He had to keep his critical thinking in top form for Draco.

One sip, and Hermione's smile appeared to relax her whole body. She leaned forward excitedly, "Wow! Delicious. So let's here all about this Draco Malfoy, then."

Blaise's grin turned on high beam.

Ron took the bottle from the air and poured himself another. "I'm just gonna keep drinking till I look as happy as that."

Minutes later, their legs had gelled with Blaise's potion, to the point they all had to sit down. The steps were convenient and that's where Harry poured his heart out to them, telling them all that he could of the negotiations and the aggressive closure that left him married.

"I mean I wanted to. I wanted this, just not like this. And he thinks I rigged it up. His family thinks I've tricked them. He's so upset, he locked himself in the bathroom all night. We only just got him off the floor. Now he's sick and a doctor is checking him over."

Hermione took all of it to heart. Her cheeks were glowing now, but her voice humbled out of respect for him. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Yeah, mate. Sucks to be you right now." Ron seemed to have slowed down enough to enjoy the taste of the wine. He swirled it around his mouth and looked impressed at his glass. "Stuff's not bad. If you drink enough of it."

Blaise raised an eyebrow in appreciation of the slight, but turned his full concern on Harry.

"But what made you change your mind? You always said you'd never let them marry you to anyone. You didn't believe in it."

Here, Harry didn't have an answer for him. He shrugged. That was more personal that he wanted to get into. But he made an effort.

"I saw him. I don't know, I'd never seen him before. Not in this lifetime. I didn't know there was something that could make me say yes, until I saw him. I don't know how else to explain it."

Their silence left a gaping hole and Blaise was the only one willing to fill it. "Did you fall in love? At first sight?" He presented this as highly logical, while Hermione and Ron looked embarrassed by the unrealistic suggestion. Maybe it was too close to home for them, because their story certainly didn't have any fairy tale beginning or ending.

"Did I? I've never been in love before. I've had crushes. I've dated, but when I saw him, I didn't want anyone else claiming him. I didn't want him leaving here with that possibility. My brain went crazy and I saw a life with him. I felt what we would be like, together, years from now. It all rushed to me in seconds and I knew, I knew, he's the one. As far as I'm concerned, I didn't get married when that document burned our names into it, I got married when I saw him. I couldn't help it. I looked at him and I understood who he was. That's all I needed to know."

"That sounds like a spell." Hermione stared into her glass.

"I guess the feeling wasn't mutual." Ron supplied helpfully.

Blaise slid down a step. "If he's so upset about it, why did he show up looking for a marriage in the first place?"

Harry bit his lip. "Um, he said he was just doing it to please his parents. He had no intentions of going through with it."

"Harry!"

They all looked as horrified as Hermione sounded. He held up his hands. "Please don't lecture me, that's not what I need right now and nothing you say is going to undo anything that's happened."

If you can't be helpful, don't say anything at all. Judging by the way she swelled behind clamped lips, she got the message.

"He's just troubled. His magic let it happen without a fight. His patronis was all show. That's his over the house, by the way. I think he knows that he belongs with me, he's just torn up about it. He's made promises to his family, his father in particular. In spite of his money, I think he's had a very rough life. He's not used to being wanted for who he is, just what he can offer. He doesn't trust me, and being stuck here with my family isn't helping any."

Now they must've been thinking what he wasn't allowing them to say. He was making excuses. He was a poor judge of character and this Draco guy sounded like a jerk.

"Well, if he really wants out of it, there is such a thing as annulment or Writ of Separation. Even for wizards, right?"

Harry looked at her as if she was missing the point. "We're not undoing it. And I'm not even sure if we can. My magic took control out of everyone's hands. Besides, he's too upset to know what he wants. I just want him happy. And right now he's sick. If we changed things now, that could be the real mistake."

When no one thought of a good enough reply, they all settled for sipping at the same time.

"I spied on the doctor," Harry confessed. "I had to know what's wrong with him."

"And?" Hermione prodded.

"He's just unconscious beneath layers of concealment charms. He has so many, it's cutting off vital magic. He has white patches of skin with bumps, like a bizarre rash. I didn't see it, I only heard about it. But I've seen enough to know that he's in a lot of private pain that has nothing to do with the marriage. It's his parents and his…"

He stopped himself. He longed to unburden his mind to the people he trusted the most, but it would still be a betrayal to Draco, so he didn't. "His past. He was a rising star at his Conservatory in Switzerland. He did brilliant things. He's actually a genius. He was expelled when he had a run in with a teacher. He lost a lot of self-esteem with that, apparently."

He looked away while saying this. Avoiding the truth wasn't the same as lying. He had to somehow stir clear of certain things while conveying what he knew of Draco's pain at the same time. It seemed cruel to not tell his friends anything at all.

"That's odd," Hermione reflected. "Muggle girls who use a very specific contraceptive have allergic reactions like that."

When all three looked at her, she added, "I have a class full of muggle-born witches. They're young women. The subject comes up. They want to know spells and alternatives."

Ron's face went pink and Blaise chuckled. As he sat on the lowest step, Harry looked up at her.

"Birth control?"

She nodded.

"What type, specifically?"

With blushing hesitation, she turned her palms up and said agreeably, "An estrogen barrier. Or as they call it, 'the ring.' It contains hormones that prevent fertilization. If a woman's body isn't able to breakdown the chemicals fast enough, her body tries to expel it through her skin. The bumps are so tiny, they can hardly be seen. Micro bumps. But you can feel them."

"It's a real ring?"

"Well, not the kind you wear on your finger."

The three guys groaned.

"Oh my God, why does that bother you?"

Ron's face twisted. "Can we not talk about girl stuff?"

She looked like she wanted to throw her drink in his face. "Ronald Weasely, you could very well have a daughter some day. Do you want her to know that you're secretly ashamed of all that her body represents?"

"I have years to build up to that," he answered.

"Well it's perfectly appropriate conversation. I swear, most men are obsessed with either war, fighting, or horrific entertainment. Muggle cinema is full of gore. You're okay with seeing guts on a battlefield, but mention one tampon, even a clean one, and you mavericks go into shock."

They all leaned away from her instinctively, turning their heads and almost retching against their wills. Even Harry, who was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

She huffed, "I hope I have a son one day so that I can teach him to appreciate women properly."

Blaise recovered long enough to add, "Our caramel-colored children will be experts on the female reproductive system."

Laughter slipped from her, even though she was trying to be serious.

"This is why women hide so much from you. You can't handle it. You want us to be perfect like your mums, whom you've never actually seen use birth control or sanitary hygiene, so you have it in your heads that perfect women don't actually need those things and that they're somehow not realistically a part of life. Talk of menstrual cycles are just rude conversation spoilers."

"There's nothing true about that statement," Blaise informed her. "I had to buy lady products for my mother and sisters."

"And I grew up seeing those dodgy things everywhere, need I remind you. We all have to blow our noses, but I bet you don't want to spend time talking about what comes out, do you?"

This caused Blaise to clap his hands and laugh, falling over onto Hermione's shoulder as she looked outraged.

Harry was too stunned to care about what any of them were saying. He stood and turned further into the room. Through their laughter, his friends watched him retreat into the shadows of the furniture and sit down on an old couch.

Ron pointed, drink sloshing. "See what you've done. The man's disgusted beyond reason."

"Anyone who's disgusted by the functions of a vagina, doesn't deserve to have access to one."

Blaise leaned close to her ear. "I respect all body parts equally."

"And the next time I blow my nose, I'm gonna frame it and leave it on the coffee table for people to accept and admire."

"And the next time someone brags about an epic fight scene, I'll be sure to point out that women loose more blood a month than all the wounded victims of antiquity."

Blaise exploded at the absurdity, taking Ron with him. All three collapsed in laughter. It took a moment before they realized that something was wrong with Harry.

He stayed so quiet, Hermione apologized. "Sorry if I've grossed you out. You look so upset."

He put down his glass and ran his hands down his face. "No, it's not that."

It was all these fucking secrets.

"Draco is… his breeding allows him to have children."

He waited till their nods showed comprehension.

"A creatorious." Hermione stated. "That's a stamp of purebloodedness. It was developed to preserve genetic magic."

He waited to see if any of them were spooked by it. Just because they knew what it was, didn't mean they were accepting of it. If that was the case, he already had notions of keeping any pregnant husband of his away from people who couldn't handle it. At least for those delicate months. He didn't know much about it, but he knew he wasn't going to tolerate anyone who upset Draco or made him ashamed. Gamy once spoke of men being able to hide it much better than women, for their very survival. Supposedly, deception could be pulled off so well, that a couple could produce a child and no one would ever know that the husband had carried it. She'd only actually ever known two personally. And when Harry was little, looking up at the grownups with huge eyes, as they talked of grownup things, he was terrified he'd catch "having a baby" the way people caught colds. Gamy had laughed, reading his expression. "Not you, sweetheart. Wizards have to go to a lot of trouble to cause that. You have nothing to worry about."

He had to stop there. That fact of Draco's ability was no secret, it just wasn't advertised. But it was enough information to let someone like Hermione put a working story together. This wasn't something he could talk to Draco about, let alone go behind his back. If she connected the allergic reaction, he'd have to laugh in her face and trivialize it. He didn't think he could do that convincingly. The real problem was going back upstairs and asking the doctor to look for something like a physical birth control ring. As he understood it, Draco was all male physically, externally, so where would such an object be placed? He had so little knowledge of how the birthing aspect functioned, he was embarrassed to open his mouth and disgrace Draco's honor. It might not be a ring, certainly not a muggle one, but it could be some magical device causing the areas on his skin. How could he hint to the doctor, what to look for, without alerting Lucius to his son's secrets?

He looked at Hermione, knowing she'd already figured it out. "Please don't say anything to anyone. He'll do it, but he's not proud of it. You're right. He's ashamed. It's exactly attitudes like ours that make him feel he's unacceptable. I have to protect him from that."

They nodded, quiet now.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to have a word with the doctor."

He rehearsed what he was going to say with each step. He was, in effect, going to have to admit to eavesdropping. So fucking what, that was his husband and he didn't have to excuse himself for anyone. Being polite to the Malfoys had its limit.

He was able to sneak by chattering guests, as they spilled out into various rooms to speculate on what was going on with one another. He smiled, offering the brave face he thought they expected, but kept it aloof enough to discourage talking to him. When he made it up to the landing, the sound of his parents talking in stilted whispers that anyone could hear, pulled him along. They were joined by Lucius's nasal inflection and he could tell by the speed of their clipped words, they were in full argument.

"It's too late for that! If the elf can't enter, then neither can anyone else."

"You have no authority over this matter. He's my son and I will be the one to determine what's best for him."

It was his dad and Lucius.

"It's not just magic. No one can physically enter or leave this property. Our muggle friends can't even get a taxi through the gate, never mind the attacking rain. Even if your elf could project through the ether, I don't know what will happen if these two are parted before that dragon does whatever the hell it's going to do."

"You two, stop it!" His mother sounded like she'd had enough. "It's not helping him."

"I would think that rather than playing host to the delusions of this household and further endangering my son's life, you would be willing to adjust your wards to let my elf assist in this matter."

"If they were any more compromised, the whole seamy world of criminal sorcerers could walk in here. Gamy and I have lowered them as much as possible. It's only making matters worse."

"Yes," Lily threw in. "The more we lower our defenses, the more this rogue magic increases them. I believe it's trying to keep Draco safe."

"Safe? He's gotten sicker!"

"All the more reason that this magic reinforces it's own protection around him. If we won't, it will. My mother knows what she's talking about."

"You're all delusional."

He rounded the corner to see Narcissa with her forehead pressed to Draco's door. She was the first to make eye contact with him. Behind her, Lucius and his parents looked like they were about to go to blows. Behind James's shoulder, Sirius waited to be useful. His smirk hinted of eagerness to have to throw himself between the two.

Harry couldn't take another second. "Hey! Draco's gotten worse?"

He looked at the door as all of them tripped over a gibberish of excuses. "How long has he been in there?"

He meant the doctor, and what could he have possibly done to make matters worse in what seemed like only forty minutes tops.

Lily rushed, speaking with her hands, "Now honey, we have to be patient. There are things going on with Draco, unexpected things, and that doctor didn't mean to cause any harm. Draco is under the influence of a lot of harmless magic," She glared at Lucius, "which should've been disclosed to us, but it was all kind of locked into place and when he undid a few charms, some of them changed properties and became hostile. Like a security system on Draco's magic."

"Hostile?"

"Coughing fits, shortness of breath, nothing life-threatening. But alarming."

"Has he woken up?"

"No." Lucius answered. "But we were treated to a lovely seizure and the development of skin that tears like tissue. Why stop at rashes? And your family is convinced that your magic is protecting Draco, when he is literally being flayed by it."

James yelled, "Oh come on! It was one blister, and that after your doctor shot him full of antihistamine without knowing how he'd react to it. Get that man away from Draco, and maybe his dragon will tone down the threat."

Harry ran up to the door. "I want to see him."

Narcissa gripped the knob and held onto it. "No you don't. The doctor is doing everything he can. He doesn't need you in his way."

"I wasn't asking."

"Neither was I."

Lucius turned to Harry, leaving his back to James. "How dare you approach my wife in such a manner?"

Lily reached between Harry and Lucius. "Honey, he's still not responsive. He's just broken out into more white rashes. Only they bruise very easily. Doctor Hayatt is healing them now. We don't want to disturb him."

"A seizure? A goddamn seizure?"

"Now Harry, there's no need for that language. Don't overreact. Were talking allergies, not curses." James looked as if even he was not convinced of his own assurances. Allergies don't cause seizures.

This started another round of loud bickering, and Harry took out his wand. The motion was so fast and determined, that Narcissa flinched and drew hers.

With a clinched jaw, he told her, "I have no intention of harming you or anyone. I just want to be on the other side of that door. Last night was the first and only time I'll ever permit a door to come between me and him again. If he's suffering, I want to be in there with him."

Her wand trembled. More out of uncertainty than fear. He saw it in her eyes. She was asking herself, could he really love Draco in such a short time? Could being kept parted from him, be a mistake on all their parts?

He used her hesitation to force his way through the door. He opened it onto the doctor leaning over Draco, using both hands to hold something flat in his mouth, while the rest of his body attempted to restrain him with his weight alone.

Harry had no idea what was going on, but his instincts would not let him wait for an answer. He used an invisible sweep of energy to shove the doctor way, and in that same motion, sent a body-binding spell over Draco, immobilizing his involuntary movements. Their parents rushed in behind him. Questions flew like daggers. Doctor Hayatt tried to explain. Magic was no longer working on Draco. Not his, anyway.

Harry tuned the rest of it out in favor of going to the bed and pulling the flat object out of Draco's mouth. He couldn't tell if the fit was over on its own, or because of the bind. Draco looked tense, as if he were still fighting something, whether his body could express it or not.

This was not the time for secrets. Harry blurted to everyone standing behind him, "Look for birth control."

"What?" Lily gasped.

No surprise that his mother was the first to process this. He couldn't say why.

"Draco told me that he takes it. I don't know, a ring, a pill, a patch. I promised I wouldn't tell but his life is obviously in danger and Hermione said that some girls get rashes from it. Very specific white patches with micro bumps. The chemical is trying to release through the skin. Too much has built up and it can't be processed any other way."

Lily whipped out her phone, ready to look it up, but remembered that no muggle service could get through the storm.

Lucius took insult with Harry's speculation. "That is absurd. My son has never engaged in any act that would necessitate such crass methods. And if he had, no muggle contraception is going to interfere with his magic."

Harry spun. "Wake up! He's a grown man, and you've made him terrified of what his body can do. You've piled the responsibility of giving you heirs on him, double. A daughter would find it difficult to give you what you're asking for, let alone a son. He's had to handle that all by himself, with no one to talk to. He's made choices he'll never confide in you."

Lucius stuck out his jaw, and sharpened his tone into razor precision. "He's not reckless like you."

"No, he isn't, which is why his actions are all the more desperate. We don't have time to argue about this."

He turned to the doctor. "What are the chances that something like that is doing this?"

Doctor Hayatt, flushed and winded, patted his forehead with a handkerchief. "Slim to none. I've looked him over head to toe. There are no foreign objects on or within his body. His blood chemistry is normal."

"But you said there were so many concealment charms, you could be missing something."

Hayatt started to reply, but paused. "And how do you know that? I've only confided that to his father."

Lucius sniffed and puffed out his chest. "I think we have a spy in our midst."

"I eaves dropped because I had to know what's wrong with him."

"I knew you couldn't be trusted."

"He's my husband. It's up to me to take care of him now. I have more right to know what's going on than you do. I should be the one consulting with his doctor."

Once again, Lily put herself between Harry and the others, leaving James at a loss by the door.

"We're wasting valuable time. I know someone. A great sorcerer. If anyone can help Draco, he can. Please let me call him." She was looking at Harry, but her question was directed at the Malfoys.

"Lily." James called her.

Narcissa answered, "But we've tried to call for our house elf. He doesn't respond. The apparation connection is closed now. We've been calling him for twenty minutes."

Harry realized that his friends must've been the last ones to get through.

Sirius, who was standing outside the room with James, yelled, "That dragon's gone ape-shit. We're in till that kid wakes up and sorts this out. It's like some bloody curse. You check for that?"

"It was the first thing I checked for," came Hyatt's reply.

Lily insisted, "If anyone can get through, it's him. Let me try to reach him. Believe me when I tell you, this wizard works miracles. He saved Harry's life once, when none of us could get magic to help. Just say the word."

"Lily!"

She didn't look at James. Harry noticed the distress in his father's face.

Lucius said, "You as a family, have already proven untrustworthy. Why should we put Draco's life in the hands of this sorcerer of yours?"

She drew herself up. "I'm done being nice. Just because we tried doing things your way, doesn't mean we're bowing to you. I'm calling him."

James demanded, "How? Even the bloody phone's no use."

"I have something else."

His face darkened, leaving cryptic implications for Harry to figure out. Lily marched around him and left the room. She marched past Sirius, who threw himself aside, with warning in her stride.

Harry had no idea who his mother was talking about. He had to think about what he would do if her plan didn't work. He wondered, could the doctor direct him to use his magic on his behalf? Talk him through any medicinal spells that he might've used on Draco himself?"

He sat down on the bed and took Draco's hand. He didn't register the Malfoys' discomfort, or see Remus stopped short at the door by Sirius's hand. "Don't go in. Not yet."

He barely registered his father's raised voice as his parent's argument followed them down the hall. Draco's skin, though severely pale, burned to the touch. That oddness even felt like an enchantment, as if his body were the battleground for equal and opposing forces. His pajama top lay open from the doctor's struggle. Harry could see more distinct areas of skin, affected by the rash. It was hard to see, since Draco was almost colorless in his unconscious state. The affected areas were several shades lighter, and it wasn't a dramatic difference at all. If there had not been talk of it, he could've missed it. He raised his hand, ignoring the way Lucius cleared his throat, and touched just under Draco's clavicle.

Narcissa spoke up. "Your magic works. Why don't you try apparating and getting him help? The dragon obviously approves of you."

He couldn't be bothered to tear his attention from Draco, but he knew she had a point. It took less than a minute to disprove it. He thought of going to his bedroom across the hall.

"No, it wants me here." Apparently, he could act on Draco's behalf, but he couldn't leave any more than the rest of them. He turned his focus back to the rash.

Raised areas felt like extremely minute goose bumps. The spot was so soft, Harry made the mistake of letting his finger linger and slide over the unaffected surface around it for comparison. He looked for a reaction in Draco's face, and found none.

"Must you behave with such blatant disregard for our presence?"

He ignored Lucius in favor of a sign from Draco. When he looked back to the spot, he froze. A red smear had formed beneath his finger. A syrupy dot of blood. He bent closer, looking for a cut, but realized that the skin was simply tearing at the slightest touch. The slightest pressure released a beaded drop. A new development. Harry tried to control his shaking. He could already see that the problem purpled beneath Draco's skin. What didn't flow out, flowed beneath it, into the pockets that it could. That white patch became an amorphously shaped bruise in less than a minute.

Hayatt saw it too and let it pull him hypnotically to the bed.

Harry held his hand out. "How is this not a curse?"

Hayatt opened his mouth to answer, but his words stammered over their lack of conviction. He finally admitted, "I don't know."

* * *

Next updates will come tonight (AM) or tomorrow. They're already written, just proofreading. Thanks!


	9. Always

In their bedroom, James followed Lily to the closet.

"What the hell? You're just going to drop a bomb like that? No explanation?"

"He's sick. I wouldn't bring it up, otherwise. You know that."

She kept her main wand in a spring-release drawer built into her side of the bed. It wasn't practical for any witch or wizard to limit themselves to one, so she'd hidden them throughout the house. She didn't have her mother's sense of security. She wasn't worried about herself, but she believed in being prepared. She retrieved it now and used it to throw open her walk-in closet. She passed racks of everyday clothing, compulsory purchases, a shoe collection that embarrassed her, and shelves archiving years of her marriage from day one.

James stayed on her heels. "There's a reason we don't mention him."

"James, I really need you to be strong for me right now. For Harry and Draco. I know you hate him. I know he's a part of that world that you promised your family you'd never have anything to do with. But he was there for us when we didn't know what to do. He helped us and we need him now."

"But you promised. We don't make promises lightly in this family."

"Exactly! Now let me do this."

She held her wand and spoke an incantation that parted the wall. A seem appeared and gently split to reveal a smaller room, cast in blue fluorescent. The light was cast by an herb submerged in a fish bow. Its spectral resonance deterred bacteria and insects. A small alter, with various books and keepsakes sat inside. A photo of every member of her family was enchanted into an heirloom mirror. She'd have to add one for Draco. Candles were spelled to light themselves when she opened the doors, and extinguished upon closure. Most of her relics were not worth money, but were either highly sentimental or priceless in magic. Her alter was for prayers for her family, and the occasional commune with deceased relatives. It was how she kept everyone she loved safe and healthy, or so she liked to think.

"Lily, we can't drop our values every time something gets difficult. I'm sorry for Draco, but this is extreme. We don't know that whatever's wrong with him just needs to run its course. You're overreacting again."

She picked up a silver jewelry box, knowing that only her childhood costume jewelry was in it. She didn't need a spell for this, just a point of contact. Inside, the mood ring she'd bought for pennies when she was twelve, showed its black dome to her. The memory of how the wizard she was about to call, transformed it from a bend-to-fit toy, to a sterling band and the clearest quartz, drowned out her husband's objections. She and her friend had been fourteen when he displayed his transfiguration abilities to her. James never trusted him, and spoke unkindly about how his family still held connections to the old ways. The illegal ways.

She took the ring from its velvet cushion. It was charmed to adjust to her hand, always.

This is what he's really afraid of. He's afraid of her remembering something she once loved. If he wasn't secure enough to trust her after two decades of marriage, there was nothing for it. She wasn't going to let that boy suffer a second more if she could help it. She knew what James was really saying, _Don't do this to me. Don't put me back in a place where I'm not as certain of where I stand._

"You kept it!"

She didn't answer.

"You promised you were done with him. I forbid you to call that wizard into our home. He's dark. He'll contaminate our lives and the peace we've worked so hard for."

"What if he can help? He's the only one powerful enough to get through. You know he is."

"That's the thing about power. People who have a great amount, aren't the best judges of how to use it. People fear him for a reason. He's been on the run for years."

"You don't know that, that's gossip. From a decade ago."

"It's testimony from convicted criminals who worked with him. If you contact him, you open our lives to the lawlessness of who he is. Yes, he's powerful. It's only taken twenty years, but I'm willing to admit that. But he's also dangerous. People only want power to lord it over others."

"Or to protect themselves."

"He lives by a very different code of ethics."

"I'm glad to hear you admit that he has ethics."

"That's just a phrase. He doesn't."

"James!"

"I'm not going to tiptoe around the fact that he's done serious time in prison. Lives were taken."

"That was self-defense."

"That was never proven."

"He's a free wizard, he got himself out of it. Everyone has a past. Where would any of us be if we can't be forgiven for mistakes?"

"He did things so dark, that people are still looking for him. If that ring is charmed to be some kind of portal, I hate to think whose magic can sense it. Especially with our wards compromised. Especially with that damn dragon broadcasting our troubles here tonight. He's a level of criminal who will always be tracked. Those weren't petty crimes. I appreciate that he's managed to hide himself and stay away from us this long, but if he comes out of hiding for you-"

"He'd protect me. He'd protect all of us. You have never understood him. I haven't spoken to him since Harry was five. How can you stand there and act like you don't remember how scared we were, when no doctor could help? The Malfoys feel that way right now. Harry feels that way."

"But you lied to me, your husband. You still have the ring. What does that tell me?"

"That I can't let anything happen to Harry, not even to please you. That you're too insecure to let me have my friend. He told me, if I ever needed him…" She shook the ring at him. "He has the sight. He knew that I would need him. He knew we'd be facing something we couldn't fight."

"He's too much trouble. I don't want him around my family."

"He would never hurt me or anything I love. He proved that ages ago. He healed your son."

"And you said that would be the last of it."

"I thought it would."

"Get rid of that thing and lets solve this ourselves."

"And let Harry and Draco suffer indefinitely?" She shook her head. "This isn't about you and your fears. Our son-in-law needs help. You know as well as I do, that he's our best hope."

She palmed it and walked up to him. "I'm going to put all my faith in you, in a way that you won't put in me. I'm doing this, and I'm gambling everything on your love and your forgiveness. Yes, he had a crush on me, even after we were married. But we were all teenagers and he was just beginning to realize that I was the wrong gender. He put me on a pedestal, so what. He left me there, for his books and his mastery. You're the one I chose. You're the one I'm going to curl up next to tonight. You're the one whose son I carried. You won. Stop reliving the past. He's a good man and a great wizard. But you're far more. You're the one I want. Trust that, and let me get these boys some help."

The intensity of his scowl faded, but he wasn't willing to cave anymore than that. He looked down as she stood on her toes to kiss him and place her hand against his jaw. She scratched at it in a way that told him he needed to shave. Sulkily, he returned her kiss.

"I'm going to strengthen the wards around you and this house."

That was all the blessing she needed. She pounced out of the room at a run.

Remus and Sirius had been waiting inside Draco's room with Harry. They saw her fly past the door and looked at each other. Sirius stuck his head out just as James trudged into view. He stopped, looked in at them, and folded his arms. "Ask me if I'm happy."

No one took the bait.

"What's she on about?" Sirius smelled intrigue.

"She's still got that old ring. She's going to try to summon him."

"Oooh. Tough break." Sirius slapped his back. "Guess a lioness will do anything for her cub."

"No… " Remus sympathized. "I'm so sorry, James."

"You and me both. Where are the Malfoys?"

"Discussing matters in the loo with the doctor, where they hope it's more private," Remus chuckled. He remembered that Harry was practically mourning beside him, and gave his arm a pat. "Ah, sorry."

Harry continued holding Draco's hand and ignored anything that wasn't in his direct line of sight. He knew his parents were arguing, but that wasn't going to wake Draco up, now was it? Sirius and Remus were trying to comfort him, but the most he could muster for them was polite silence. He kinda wished they'd leave and give him privacy. To hell with Narcissa's distrust. The only reason he wasn't holding Draco right now, was because he was afraid of doing more damage to his skin. But the way that skin had torn, he was scared to witness any more atrophy in Draco, alone. His mood both repelled company and sought it at the same time.

They all heard Lily's voice call from downstairs. "I need live bodies! You guys, come help."

Remus, Sirius and James, all exchanged solemn glances. They didn't have to name the feeling in order to know that it was a sense of betrayal, in helping to do anything that might be construed as asking for help from Lily's friend. But for a sickly snob of a kid, whom Harry was obviously crazy about after less than forty-eight hours, they'd do it. Sirius fell into step with James and off they went. Remus lingered, sensing the evening had just upped the ante. The moment called for famous last words, or at the very least, affection.

Harry was still bent over Draco. Remus stroked his shoulder. "Don't worry. I know the bloke your mother's talking about. He's really quite good, if a little creepy."

He saw that his intended comfort couldn't get past Harry's attention, so he got up and eased out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Downstairs, they all tiptoed past the formal rooms where conversation had died to hushed whispers. People were steadily eating cake and watching the Potters elude conversation. By now, the air bristled with hidden information and Lily could only guess that no one was really complaining because they all wanted to stay and see how it all turned out. Of course, her mother must've made announcements, must've asked everyone to bear with them. The older generations understood the temperament of adaptive marital magic, than the rest. But children had to be fed and distracted. Emerald and Dudley, along with some of the older cousins, were doing a great job of making a play room. Blankets and sleeping bags were already being amassed for a second sleepover.

Gamy's meal was intended to distract the adults. Thank goodness she'd had the foresight to ask the service for another maid before entry got shut down. Lily felt bad about not being more helpful to her, but it gave Petunia the opportunity to catch up and lend a hand. They were even opening the formal dining room for supper. Technically, it was a ballroom, but Gamy hadn't entertained with it for ages. Like everything she loved, she kept it in pristine condition. Harry's and James's wall-to-wall Ipad room had rendered it obsolete, but the floors still sparkled with a blush of pink marble so shiny that reflections created an inverted universe of gowns and glow when the room was in use. It was perfect for a wedding banquet, and Lily had to stop her eyes from watering at the missed opportunity. Harry should be toasting his new husband over a sprawling table of cake and champagne. He should be blushing from that first kiss in front of everyone.

But no, it couldn't be that simple. Lily found the smaller sitting room she was looking for. She began kicking and shoving furniture out of the way, using her wand on the heavier pieces. There was something reassuring about confirming that she could still use her magic. The dragon wasn't letting anyone out, but it wasn't rendering them helpless, either. That counted for something.

"Help me clear some space. He'll need plenty of room."

Nobody asked questions. Sirius and Remus knew that it would be too easy to trigger another argument between James and Lily. They kept their heads down and followed orders.

When all the furniture was backed against the wall, Lily stood in the center of the room and looked at her ring. She hadn't just needed physical help. She needed magical help. The face of the domed crystal, was dark, but becoming lighter. It functioned less to tell mood than to take the magical temperature of her immediate environment. The more color that emerged from its pitch face, the more it wakened to usefulness. She didn't tell them that they were all charging it. When it reached a certain degree in hue and vivid tone, she'd speak the words she's never forgotten. She put the ring on, and told herself that she was ready for this. She could handle it. All of them could handle it.

"Excuse us, we're looking for Harry. Do you mind if we go upstairs?"

It was Hermione, flanked by Ron and Blaise, who lingered back, perfectly happy to let her do the talking. James's smile was tight. "That's not a good idea. Glad you three made it, by the way, but now's really a bad time."

Hermione mouthed the word, 'Oh,' and stepped back into the hall.

Lily called her. "No, wait! You can help. Your magic will help Harry."

"Lily!"

"Shush, James. If we're going to get past that dragon, we'll need all the help we can get."

Remus backed James up. "They're kids, are you sure you want them in on this?"

"They're young adults, old enough to marry. Yes, I want their help if they're willing to give it."

Hermione stepped inside the room, her eyes shifting from Sirius to Remus, and back to Lily. "I'm sorry, what's going on?"

"We're doing this for Harry and Draco. No one can leave anymore, not even an elf. Draco is very sick and we need to get the only person who can help him, here. For that, I'll need to draw on anyone's magic who's willing."  
Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Of course we'll help."

Ron and Blaise planted themselves by her side. Ron asked, "Are we doing a spell, then?"

"A summons. Nothing weird, he's perfectly alive and healthy as far as I know. But normal methods won't work."

"Oh my god," Hermione reacted. "You're going to use a spirit summons on someone who's perfectly alive. I've never seen that performed. That ring is a conductor?"

"Yes, well, we'll see if it works."

"But how? I've read about spirit contact. If his body is still living, that means he can store his genetic blueprint and recreate it at need, wherever life supports it. In essence, he's achieved immortality."

Lily bowed her head, not wanting to get into it. She could feel James's anxiety shoot up ten notches.

"Lily."

"It's fine, James." She turned to Hermione. "Not now, sweetie. He's scared enough as it is. You two, stand over there. Remus, get close to James. I want a circle."

Everyone made a point of cooperating with the erratic energy rolling off of her. While waiting for her to start, they looked and felt like chess pieces bereft of their board. All trusting, willing pawns because they knew who she was, even if they didn't know who her friend was.

Her hand shook as she watched the face of her ring turn blue. "Just send a tiny bit of your love and good intentions for Harry, into this ring. I'll do the rest."

The ring physically warmed against her skin as it brightened. "Thank you, it's working."

They strained to keep track of what she was saying. Especially James.

She closed her eyes and brought forth her last, most vivid memory of her friend. Now was the time to give herself full permission. As soon as she had him in her focus, her heart exploded with information about him. His presence pulled her in. She heard him say her name.

_Lily. _

This was the part she was supposed to say out loud, for clear intent to the Universe. It made all the difference between enjoying memories and contacting the real thing. But when it came time to speak her incantation into the room, she squelched it. That was personal. She was already being judged enough.

_Please. Harry needs you. We need you. You said you'd come back if we ever needed help again. Oh, so much has changed, but our friendship hasn't. This is my home too and I'm opening my doors to you. We require your help. Come. Please come now._

"Enter in peace, Master of this ring. You entrusted it to me. It became more than I ever paid for it. The light inside belongs to you. It answers to you. Hear me now, and follow my call. I need you, friend. That is all."

Her words were partly spontaneous, and partly born from an old agreement. She knew it wasn't the words that did the trick, it was her sincerity behind them.

She felt the change as soon as it happened. Eyes closed, all the molecules in the air rushed past her, forced out of the way. A blast of heated air hit her back, blowing her hair forward. She locked her legs to keep in place. Something punched a hole into the space behind her, and entered. She was so aligned with her wishes, that she felt him step through. Using her sense of him, instead of her eyes, she saw the soft leather of his Italian boots, ankle-high and fashionably level with the hem of his cloak. She saw the swell of his six-two frame swirl into existence, bringing the scent of life, air, water, wild flowers and earth, from a continent away. And magic. He brought power into the room that zipped up her arms and raced down her sides, leaving traces of its touch. She heard the others gasp, opened her eyes and turned.

There, not two feet from her, stood the dark wizard that James felt so threatened by. Not dark at all, but pale as moonlight on marble. People mistook him for dark, because they didn't know how to look at him without seeing all the magic he stored in his black hair. It blew, with night clouds that carried him, in a wind about his face, before settling. His clothes, buoyant on the breeze of renegade magic, cut to refinement along his shape. His charcoal daycoat was formal, and his cloak hung heavily, made to hold up for travel. Its wool appeared so soft that she could feel it without touching it. Its thickness spoke of wintry fortresses and glacier research. Perhaps he'd been interrupted from his work by a fire's light. But his scent spoke of spring, just thawed, with rivers and wildlife flowing under the apex of a brilliant sun. His life preceded him in the gust that knocked her back. She had to breathe it in, or not breathe at all.

She understood, his travels were encapsulated within his magic. He carried his favorite places with him, rather than traveled to them externally. For all she knew, her entire reality could've been a snow globe on his shelf. But as long as she was living it, she'd claim it fully.

By the time the shadows and tricks of light settled around him, he looked more human and less apocalyptic in nature. Windblown, his dark eyes shifted and rose from her feet to the length of her jeans and blouse. Something ignited behind them and when he got to her face, he smiled.

"It's a pleasure to find myself in your home once again, my dear Lily."

Her friend, Severus Snape, bowed low. His hair fall around his face. His grace was deceptively humble, for at the same time, she felt his reverence and respect for her, dominate all others in the room.


	10. Sugery

In that cleared space, seventeen years caught up with them. She couldn't help but smile. She'd know that distinct voice anywhere, and the way he used it to speak from the calm center of a storm.

She couldn't help but marvel at the wizard he'd become. She remembered a gifted boy who preferred books to people, and spells to dating. Now was not the time to think about how he'd gotten into so much trouble, applying his talents to underground causes. They stopped blaming each other for who abandoned whom, the last time Harry got sick. She overcame her urge to grasp his face and take in the maturity she saw there. He wore his life experience in the tension around his eyes. Tiny, premature hairlines, deepened the frame of his mouth and told her that he'd weather many a challenge to arrive at what she was seeing. She wanted to catch up, but she wanted to put her husband at ease.

She threw her arms around him and began the introductions. "Oh, Severus! Thank you. You remember James and his friends, Sirius and Remus."

James kept his distance, nodding neutrally while Remus presented his hand. "You look good, Severus. I can't believe it's been so long."

He sounded genuinely amazed. Severus looked him up and down before accepting his hand. "Time is subjective. It has felt exactly like seventeen years to me."

"I don't bloody believe it. Snivelous Snake." Sirius approached, stopping by Remus's side. "Last I saw you, you were jinxing the bloody sidewalks. Crumbling right under the Governor Macarell's big fat loafers. He went down like a tub of lard."

"My past is irrelevant. I no longer speak of the accusations named against me. Time is too valuable to waste on that."

"Now, now, that's not how I meant it. We all heard what you did for Harry. You may not believe it, but I actually had money on you. I told James, no matter what we say about the guy, he'll not be taken without a fight. I must admit, I looked at you differently after you took on the whole Ministry. Those salaried aurors weren't prepared. That was the funniest thing ever replayed in the back of the pubs, and you owe it to us for those quick reflexes. We might've been asses, but James and I kept you on your toes."

Lily bit her lip. This was Sirius's idea of making nice. As James's best friend, he tested the water for him. From what she remembered, there was no reason for Severus to have any fondness for them. He remained cordial, but lifted his head a notch higher when he aimed his voice at Sirius.

"I live in the present, Mr. Black. If you must engage me in conversation, please do so from the facts that are before you."

"Oooh, Snape has not lost his bite. Can't blame an old man for trying. What's so bloody changed about you?"

Lily glared at Remus, who took Sirius's arm. "Come on. Enough small talk."

"I didn't mean to offend his Highness. Just saying hello."

"I am not offended, I simply live by a select standard now. I do not have time for trivial regrets. Let's cut to the quick. You wish to show a modicum of acceptance and hope that I forgive all the unkindness displayed to me in your youth. You have placed Lily's needs before petty disputes. Your backwards way of saying hello, by revisiting your last known misinformation regarding me, is your only way of asking that we put aside our differences and focus on the problem at hand."

If blinking could be a form of stuttering, Sirius stood there, mute and afflicted. He wasn't sure if he'd been insulted or not, and the look on his face leaned towards suspicion.

Lily launched into an explanation. "It's Harry. Oh, Severus, he got married yesterday. We have a new member of the family and we don't know how to help him."

She charged into a breathless explanation that had him slowing her down. He came forward, gliding a thick and graceful palm over her shoulder. She took it in hers and squeezed. James stirred from his position in what was formerly a circle.

Hermione, Ron, and Blaise held back, categorizing the strange man as well as the awkwardness that suddenly chilled everyone. Their eyes were huge, but their lips were silent as they tried to work out the math unfolding before them.

"Slow down. Is there a fire?"

"Kinda. He's getting worse by the minute and no one can leave. His patronis is a dragon. It's causing this weird storm that affects our wards. The marriage happened so fast, he didn't have time to agree. They didn't have time to court, and now he hates us and he's so sick that he's attacking the house in his sleep. Harry's blaming himself. Draco won't eat, and now he's started having seizures and spontaneous wounds and… and I couldn't bear to see his skin coming apart like that. Something's not right and it's not my son's fault. Draco is suffering and I want you to help him. I would not have bothered you, you know that, but we're all trapped and there's no one else who can get through. We have a doctor here, but that's not helping."

"Stop." His eyes shifted to James. "A marriage. Already?"

James nodded, bracing himself for a confrontation years in the making. Severus turned away in thought, surprising him. "He's twenty-two. I suppose it is time."

He looked back at them over his shoulder. His eyes lifted in calculations taking place above his head, the way someone might listen to the floorboards for an intruder. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's time."

"Time for what?" James and Lily both asked.

"His magic requires companionship. No doubt he as so much to give, he must share it or suffer."

James stepped forward. "You don't know anything about Harry."

"And yet I am well acquainted with your family's particular vein of magic. You made sure of that. That I knew how how old it was. Nearly as old as my own. The blood wants what it wants."

Something passed between them that everyone else was not privileged to understand.

To Hermione, Severus looked like something out of the annals of Camelot, with a face as imprinted by habits of scowls, as it was by stillness and composure. Positively medieval. For some reason, she didn't want to admit that he was handsome. Everything about him was poised for it, that stunning entrance, his height, his build, all that thick wavy hair flashing as eccentrically as his cloak. He was far from the troll that featured predominantly in Sirius's and James's old stories. There was something familiar about him and she tried to put her finger on it. She concluded that the muscles in his face were so drawn and resigned that they denied any show of acquiescence to common appeal. That would include being handsome. A shame. His voice was stunning. His looks dramatic. Aside from that, she just didn't like his tone towards Sirius and James.

He asked Lily, "Do I have time to hear the facts from the beginning, or does he need immediate attention?"

She grabbed his arm. "Walk with me. He's upstairs, I'll tell you everything in order. Everything we know."

When she moved forward, he stayed in place. His voice softened, but remained decisive. "If things are as complex as you say, I'm going to be here for a while. I require my assistant. Elan."

Why this called for an announcement, was anyone's guess. Ron and Blaise agreed in silence. The guy was weird.

"Of course, Severus" Lily told him. "If you can bring him in, do so. Can you send anyone in or out? If nothing else, we could get Draco to a hospital."

"A marriage and rebellious magic. From what you've told me, traditional practices will waste another week of testing and scanning before any wizard determines they cannot cut the source of the problem from his mind. If he doesn't wish to be married, his magic will fight that contract, unto his health. And your son's magic, which is, shall we say distinctive, will fight that. All I can do is look at the stalemate symbolized by his illness. If I understand it, I can show it to him and let him cure himself. If he doesn't want to be married, I can't change that. As for bringing people here or shuttling them out, I'm afraid my abilities will only encompass one other person."

"Oh. That's fine, we can work with that. But you can break the contract. If it gives him back his health, right?"

"Not necessarily. Any magic that has you trapped here, is not going to be undone without significant effort and consequences. I am already aware of the restlessness of the dragon. I would not part Harry from his mate, if I were you."

She stepped back, unsure of what to say.

He offered his arm. "Now, you may lead on."

Lily joined him. Remus tugged Sirius closer to him as they let the two pass. They looked at James, who followed, red-faced. Then at the younger generation, who's mouths were still hanging open.

Ron was the first to spill it. "That's him? That's Severus Snape, the bloke you guys bragged about beating up and teaching lessons to all these years? You made him sound like a squib."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, believe me, he wasn't that impressive at fourteen. And we were all kids, no harm no foul. Taught him how to stand up for himself, we did."

"Yeah, well, he's bloody powerful now, isn't he? The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees."

Blaise agreed, "I've never felt anything like it. What sort of work does this wizard do?"

Sirius exploded, "He fucking, excuse my French, absorbed everyone's magic. That's not wizardry, that's sorcery. You saw that as well as I did, and we're just gonna act like that's normal because that's what Lily wants. This is precisely what James is talking about. If I went around doing that, I'd be strong enough to break through barriers and probably hands-on healing, and God knows what else."

"Sirius, they're just kids." Remus's tone was hushed.

"All the more reason for them to understand why we've never trusted this guy."

Hermione pointed out, "You said he was rather lacking and unfortunate in the looks department."

"Oh, come on! Don't you fall for it too. It's called magic, sweetheart. Believe me, without those charms, you wouldn't be able to look him square in the face. Repulsive. That's how I remember him."

"Well, perhaps your memory is the real issue between you."

Sirius made a point of looking like he didn't know what hit him. He raised his arms. "Excuse me? At what point did we decide to start bickering about whose childhood memories are more accurate? The bloke walks in and suddenly I'm not Uncle Sirius anymore? I'm the bad guy, just 'cause I'm looking out for James?"

"I didn't mean that," she apologized. She just wanted to take the credit for being smart enough to show him that the past really was getting in the way of dealing with the present. She forgot that not everyone wanted to award her cleverness, and that even people much older than her can have their feelings hurt by it.

"You three listen to me. I don't know who that show off is, that just come through that effing ring, or whatever that hat trick was. But he's dangerous and I'm telling you this to protect you, not to attack him. He's done things I have the decency not to divulge to your naive and tender ears. I won't say he's evil, but evil does consult with him. I admit, we were a little hard on Sev, back in the day. But that's no excuse for making the decisions he's made. He might be all bloody dashing now, but he was a knobbly nerd when I knew him."

"Sirius!" Remus hissed, "Our daughter is a nerd, and I say that affectionately. A lovely, clumsy, boy-crazy nerd. Severus has obviously grown into his gifts as a wizard, as will she. We will not nerd-shame anyone. The kids are right. If they learn anything negative about him, it shouldn't be from us. It shouldn't be because we can't let it go. Sev has moved on, so have we."

This wasn't good enough. Sirius had to have the final word. He pointed to those three, untested faces.

"If we're cool towards him, we're only keeping polite distance. Don't engage with him. Don't try to make light conversation with him. Let him see to Draco and be on his way. That's for your own good."

Hermione, Ron, and Blaise, showed him the respect of nodding. When Remus and Sirius turned, the three looked uncertain. Hermione led the way, as all three hoped to make it as close to Draco's bedroom as possible, without being shooed away.

Harry still leaned over Draco, watching for signs of pain in his face. He kept having to fight down the temptation to stroke his arm. White patches were beginning to form there too, and he couldn't risk it. When he heard the knock at the door, he didn't bother turning around. They were just going to ask him to leave again and subject Draco to some other desperate act that wasn't going to work. That's why he'd refuse.

The touch on his shoulder was light and delicate. "Harry, I'd like for you to meet a friend of mine. He can help Draco. I'm sure of it."

He looked up. His mother's face strained, willing him to cooperate. Behind her, a rather eccentric looking wizard burrowed into him with dark eyes. An obvious wizard. The energy rolling off of him, practically stated it.

"Severus Snape, Mr. Potter." He extended his hand. "We've met before, although you were only five and I do not expect you to remember."

Harry shook it, robotically. He looked for his dad, who stood out in the hall. James let the door behind him, to Harry's bedroom, hold him up. He propped there, arms folded, and winked at him.

Harry knew that wink and that smile. He also knew the other cues. Suppressed worry, a little heated under the collar, and a shade of stroke-pink that protested he had everything under control. It said, 'Don't worry,' when there was a reason to worry. Harry knew the name, and Remus's and Sirius's stories, but he didn't recall anything else about the visitor.

"I'm sorry, no I don't remember."

Acceptance settled across the stranger's face. "Your mother has conveyed the events of the last two days to me. If you allow me to, I would like to examine your friend."

"He's my husband and I'm not sure I want anyone touching him. How did you get through the storm, and what makes you qualified?"

"Harry!" Lily stood straight. His harsh attitude practically blew her hair back. Embarrassment angered her. "Look here, he's the only chance Draco has. Don't be rude."

"It's all right, Lily. He's just looking out for someone who can't do that for themselves at the moment. He is correct to interview me."

Severus removed a card from his cloak, and handed it to Harry. On textured, deep green paper, his name glistened into sight. A fire charm raced along fanciful gold script before turning into the words, Master Sorcerer. He withdrew a sleek black wand and tapped the card. A holographic list appeared. Depending on how Harry looked it it, it shimmered between prism light and appearing as ordinary paper.

"My credentials."

Harry wasn't about to read anything, he didn't have the headspace for it and he would've said so, had the list not transformed into representational images and scenes in his mind. He got a sense of this person traveling all over the world, going where needed, when traditional thinking could not save lives. His skills weren't limited to medicine or healing, but expanded into strategic problem-solving. In one of the scenes, he was greeted by muggle royals at a large dinner. In another, he was accosted by outlaws, over the rumor of his abilities. In the next, he poured antibodies into well water, performed a village-wide cleansing ceremony, and awakened comatose children. The scenes weren't just images, they were memories, and Harry felt what it was like to stand in each of those moments and places, if only for a second. The memories of who these people were and their locations, were handed over to him. That's how he knew the authenticity of this wizard. Severus was qualified.

He looked back at his father, who wasn't smiling now. Then up at his mother's friend.

"That's amazing."

"I show it, not to impress you, but to gain enough trust to let me see if I may be of help to your husband."

"His skin breaks open at the slightest touch. He's gotten cold."

"I won't touch him initially. And when I do, I'll warn you of what to expect."

Harry looked at his wand. "He's already been scanned. Just layers of charms. No curses."

"I understand that it's difficult for you to leave him alone again. Therefore, I ask that you stay in the room with us. You may observe everything."

Harry's mouth opened, but it was Lucius's voice that broke into the room.

"How dare you bring an outsider into this without my consent! He'll not lay a hand on Draco." He entered, followed by his wife and his hired doctor. "You people grow more bold as each hour passes."

Lily faced him. "Something had to be done."

"And who might you be?" Severus asked.

"I am Draco's father, and the only person capable of knowing what's best for him."

"This is Severus, a friend of mine. He's qualified to help."

"How did he get through the storm? I thought you said that the way is cut off."

"As mannerly as it would be to explain my presence to everyone individually, over tea and biscuits, I think the most expedient way that I can prove my services to you, is to get on with it. I'm certain that you don't want your son to suffer, unnecessarily, for one second longer than he has to."

Harry noticed that Severus had a way of speaking that form fitted every word into place. His voice never wavered. It had a deep resonance that bent words to his meaning, but softly. He did not extend his hand, perhaps because everyone in the room knew that Lucius wouldn't take it.

It took a moment for Lucius to figure out how to take credit for putting his son first. "Well, you got through, so perhaps there is more to you than one can visually assess. I will remain in this room with Draco."

Severus looked to Harry. "You're his closest family now. You have Power of Attorney. I can tell that your magic guards him like a sentinel. Do you consent to his father being present for the examination?"

"How dare you! They don't even know each other."

Harry wasn't prepared for this level of respect. "He can stay."

"Very well."

Lucius turned purple with indignation. His throat swelled with venom he was too injured to express. "You, sir, have already worn out your welcome. You have no authority to offer this boy such responsibilities."

"And yet he has already taken them on. You're objection confuses me. Do you honor this marriage or don't you? It's no mere accident that puts your son in this house, in this wizard's bed, so you must've taken great pains to get him here. Beating out all other suitors to join your legacy with his. Harry gets his kindness from his mother, but the House of Potter is more discerning. It does nothing out of kindness. That magic chooses members for their strengths. If it allowed them to marry, then it is a sound marriage."

"Then why is Draco reacting this way? Why is it hurting him?"

"If you step aside, we shall see what's hurting him."

At the touch of Narcissa's hand, Lucius remembered himself and swallowed his distress. "I certainly hope so." He let her pull him away.

When everyone cleared out, Harry noticed that Severus put several charms on the door and around the room. He did it very quickly, with sharp, short strokes of his wand. The one-word incantation was barely visible on his lips. He could've done it between casual conversation.

"Do not be alarmed by the wards I'm placing. They're only temporary. Think of this as sterilization of my work field."

He shooed them away from the bed and drew down the covers without touching them. He started above Draco's head, wand held aloft, until the tip of it glowed. Then he walked backwards slowly, facing his patient, but letting a soft vapor pour like smoke over Draco's limbs. That vapor gave off its own light and appeared to concentrate around certain parts.

"What you see is a modified scan, with protection built in. These are cleansings and blessings, since I do not know what ancestral waters I am disturbing. He's old blood and so is Harry. These may be charms, but there is hostility behind them. They were put here with the expectation that no one should go snooping. He may be asleep, but he still does not take kindly to the invasion of privacy. The smoke you see is a byproduct of obeisance. I am asking his soul for permission to see behind his symptoms."

Soul? Harry studied him. He intercedes like a priest?

He looked for clues as to what Severus was picking up, in his expression. The longer the scan went on, the more unreadable it became. There were moments when it wasn't just a scan because he stopped over a certain spot and appeared to force the vapor in. At these times, the substance flowed like mist over water, and rushed in a hazy film into Draco's hands and abdomen. It looked like it was being sucked into him voraciously, before reaching a calm that had it floating elsewhere again.

Beside him, Lucius muttered and grew impatient. "All show."

Severus eventually retracted his wand and held it to his chest. He kept his back to them and appeared lost in thought before turning.

"I'm going to need to see that marriage contract. His body is attempting to honor many conflicting arrangements. Harry's wishes take precedence above them all, and it is a shock to his system. He's adapting to Harry's magic and many old promises are falling away. But he is loyal to his family." He looked at Lucius. "He will not let go of old agreements without being properly convinced to do so."

To Harry, "Where is the contract?"

Minutes later, it shook as Harry handed it to him. "None of us can really read it. It signed itself before we were ready. It took over our wishes."

"Don't be so sure. Your magic is decisive, not evil. Perhaps it did exactly as you wanted."

"I didn't want him to be unhappy, or get sick."

Severus levitated the contract within reading distance. He used an enlargement spell and the thing unfolded in four directions, taking on luminosity that magnified the text upon it. It spread like an airborne tapestry for all to see.

"From what I can see here, I don't think he's sick from the claim that your vows have over him."

"We never spoke any vows."

"Your magic spoke for you. Words can be false. Magic is not."

"Then why is he sick all of a sudden? Surely he's had those cover-up charms for years now. He's lived like that just fine. What did I do to make it worse?"

Severus's wand combed through the fine print. Text appeared and vanished between lines. There were places where the parchment held pockets and hidden compartments. These unfolded to reveal tiny scripts that Harry could only assume represented clauses and loopholes. It was visual representation of legalities. By the time it stopped expanding in size and unfolding, it covered their entire field of vision and one wall. There were layers of parchment behind it. It would've taken him a lifetime to translate all the information it contained. Surely, all of this wasn't about him and Draco. They hadn't lived enough life to amass such dictates.

"You didn't make it worse, you put an end to it. Or your magic is trying to. Draco is fighting it."

"He doesn't want to be with me."

"He's not weak, and neither is his line. If he didn't want to be with you, he would've eluded you. It may not be a smooth transition, but it is a transition."

"What's all that writing? Our negotiations took a whole day, but that looks like decades of stuff."

"Centuries, on both sides."

Lucius cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, how does this help my son?"

"It will help me navigate his secrecy. Since he cannot speak for himself, his privacy will have to be compromised. I'm using this to avoid any hidden landmines like the ones previously set off by your doctor. For instance, this document tells me that no one has the right to remove his clothing, not even under the most harmless of circumstances. Not even to dress him for bed. Harry's ancestors were territorial where marriage is concerned. They viewed the first two weeks of marriage as transformational, and the first two days, a sacred time to align and lock onto each others innate identity. It unifies them and makes for unshakable family bonds. That process has been violated, along with many others."

Harry and Lucius looked at each other.

"You see, all marriages into this family, must stand on the decrees within this document. I doubt someone could pass through this family's door, who wasn't a candidate to consent to this. Your son is fractured by all of his promises. He's split himself to give others what they want, so he wasn't looking when a part of himself accepted Harry's terms. When he heals and becomes whole again, he will integrate his many broken shards. What we see now, is the beginning of that process, however disturbing it may seem."

A weight lifted off of Harry's chest. "Are you saying that he's actually healing from old stuff? The marriage is taking it off of him?"

"Think of it as detoxifying him. He needed defenses before he met you. Now that he has married into security, his magic is being purged of all those unnecessary toxins and extraneous methodologies."

Again, he turned to Lucius and spoke as if they were the only two there. "Judging by the strain on his magic, I doubt he has rested properly in years. Rest alone, would see his body emptied of its burdens. But he has not been convinced to let that happen until today. No matter how it looks, he is resting for the first time in a long time. This is what your shelter and your marriage affords him. Be patient. He's not accustomed to receiving comfort. He's not accustomed to being valued without proving himself. That's what all the promises and contracts assailing him, are about."

Lucius sneered, "You speak far beyond your license."

"My license exceeds any concept you have of license. It's noted here that it was your suggestion to write in a Certainty of Consummation."

"Not that it's any of your business, but that is the heart of the marital agreement."

"Not to him. His opinion of it is written here too. This is one more promise that your son's slumber is attempting to avoid, yet his love for you holds him to it. You must stop making demands on him. He's given. His magic has a voice and it is screaming that. What he hasn't given, isn't needed."

Harry asked, "You can read what he thinks, on that parchment?"

"This document will govern his life. If he has to bow to records and archaic laws, he wants to express why. It is an honorable position, both royal and common. He's choosing his love of people, of clan, over solitary fulfillment. He may exhibit confusion and illness in life, but in this contract, he knows what he wants. And he does not wish to engage in sexual matters merely because he has to, but because he wants to."

He turned back to Lucius. "You have violated his most intrinsic beliefs concerning his body. He wanted his husband to inspire intimacy from him, not to be ordered to do it. That was his prize. He put it there for himself. A great milestone of life. Perhaps only valued by him, but that made it one of the most useful and treasured. When he agreed to you, to force the proof, he betrayed himself. The blood on these sheets, came from wounds that were made when he agreed to your decision."

Lucius drew himself up, causing Harry's eyes to widen.

"You're not a mediwzard, you're a witch doctor. A dealer of voodoo and superstitious propaganda. You know nothing of my son's innermost thoughts and I won't have you stand there pretending to read nonsense into that contract. You've yet to demonstrate any means of waking him, I see no reason to assault my ears with your discolored assessment any further."

"Mr. Malfoy, I do not tell you these things to assign blame. I'm telling you to help you let go. You swore that you would not. When you made that promise to him, you did not have the foresight to see that one day, he would be capable enough to stand on his own in full representation of all that is good about your family. Your reasoning is documented deeply into the folds and compartments of the contract as well. Family posterity does not want anything lost. Both families have great legacies that refuse to be forgotten. The magic values you all. It lives through the dynasties. It is overjoyed at this union. But you must trust him. I suggest you find a quiet space and reach out to Draco. Release him from his promises. That will make my work a bit easier. He needs to hear that from you."

Lucius leaned into Severus's face. "You have no idea what my son means to me. I take orders from no one when it comes to his welfare. Either you dispense with this slight-of-hand psychology and wake him, or take yourself from my sight. If you say one more word against my decisions as his father, the Potters will have a full on duel to contend with. I do not wish to sully these events even further by spilling your blood."

Harry closed his eyes, regretting Lucius's words for him. A threat could not be unmade, and something told him this wizard would not take it lightly.

Severus thought about it. Harry could almost hear his mind ticking off a checklist of reasons denoting Lucius as an idiot. "You choose pride. So be it."

The contract folded itself. A flourish of precise right angles and thick sheets cracked dryly. Pockets and ribbons denoting special tangents and details, hid themselves away again, until the document was small enough to fit into an envelope. Severus retrieved it from the air and sailed it back to Harry.

"Thank you for trusting me with that information. I now feel confident to awaken your husband."

He moved closer to the bed.

"I see three major obstacles that need removing. Each relating to vows. On Harry's side, vows built into the contract, are highlighting a problem with his blood. That would be the toxin analogy. That is considered a breech of contract, for he is too unhealthy to live up to his promises. For instance, he couldn't carry a child if he wanted to. His body is too taxed to spare energy for conception. He was not forthcoming in revealing that information and Harry's magic sees it as a breach of contract."

"Maybe he didn't know," Harry rushed to defend Draco.

Severus didn't dispute it, but moved haltingly to the next obstacle. "There are fealty clauses. As a husband, your magic feels you have been lied to. As per your agreement, Draco factors this into all that he has promised. Dishonesty is a demerit, and you will have to convince him that it doesn't have to be this serious. But you will have to convince yourself first. He won't believe you, otherwise. He is keeping secrets from his husband and he is willing to pay the price. Only you can tell him that there is no price to pay."

Harry nodded, aware that he didn't fully understand.

"That brings us to the third and most concrete of the problems. I see it but I don't know what it is."

He held his wand the way one might hold a squeegee to clean a window. When he moved over Draco's midriff, an X-ray of infrared appeared two feet above the area. It was a window onto Draco's internal organs.

Nausea reared its head and Harry had to quickly tell himself that it was from the shock, nothing else. The image wasn't as realistic as it could've been, wasn't as gross. Because of his ignorance, things looked hazy and indistinct, but clear enough that Harry knew that he was seeing inside Draco's body. This wizard was doing amazing things. Frightening, but amazing things.

"It's lodged in his abdomen and it's what all these petty charms serve to hide. I wouldn't dare attempt to remove it before gaining your consent. Your magic would take offense that I have touched your husband so intimately, before you. Just by talking to you, some of the charms have fallen away, no longer needed. It takes a great deal of energy to keep secrets. His body doesn't want the burden anymore. As his husband, your authority trumps all others in his life. You didn't take that from him, he signed that over to you. Give me permission to remove what I see inside of him, and I will be able to do so safely."

"An operation?"

"You will not touch my son."

"A magical one. No incision will be necessary."

"But can you tell what it is?"

"It's artificial. It's stopping his progress and your magic doesn't like it. It must've served him once, but it's nothing but poison to him now."

"Then he'll be cured? He'll wake up?"

"It's where we start."

Lucius was not impressed by the X-ray. "See here. There's no way I'm consenting to some magical surgery that will alter my son's body."

Harry turned on him. "Wrong answer! Your first reaction should be, why is there something in him to begin with? Your second should be, why didn't your doctor find it, or mention it? If you can't see that Draco needs to be free of it, then you don't belong in this room."

"That is nothing more than a charlatan's trick."

"It's possible," Severus offered, "That it simply translated to the doctor as another binding charm. Draco's magic put it there and is holding on to it very tightly. To an untrained mind, it appears no different than a spell. Few would think to look for a physical counterpart."

"If you can remove it without hurting him, do it." Harry gave the order while looking at Lucius.

"You don't know what you're doing," Lucius warned them.

"Do you know about it, then? Did you have him go through some procedure?"

"I assure you, Draco's body is as natural and unspoiled as the day he was born. He came into the world with everything he needs. Why would I corrupt what is perfect? What I worked so hard to achieve, in terms of my magical obligations and my family?"

Something recoiled in Harry's gut. Mr. Malfoy had been deceived as well. He really believed that Draco wanted the life he was groomed for. Harry took pity on him.

"If you don't want to see this, I'm asking you to step out."

"I'm staying."

"Will you let Severus take it out, and not interfere? You'll be restrained if you don't."

Lucius lifted his eyes to Severus. "Don't let him suffer."

"No more than can be avoided."

This guy did not make promises he couldn't keep, Harry noticed.

All solemnity vanished when Severus vanished the bedclothes completely and shielded the bed in a protective barrier. "So that there are no life-threatening interruptions."

Lights in the room got brighter. Lucius stumbled back, pushed there by an invisible hand that wanted him out of the way. Harry held his ground. He feared what he might see and told himself to respect Draco's body at all times.

That didn't make it any easier when Severus transfigured Draco's pajamas into strategically placed linen that covered his hips. Harry quickly averted his eyes from the telling swell between Draco's legs. A shallow layer of blue flames traveled the length of Draco's body, drifting down him like a sheer veil.

"Sterilization and stabilization. His limbs will be unable to move until the procedure is complete."

Severus coaxed those blue flames around his own body, especially his hands, before lowering them to Draco's abdomen.

The linen was much lower than Harry thought he had a right to see, but his eyes kept coming back to it. That demarcation, from the white shore of Draco's creamy skin, to the beginnings of glistening private hairs that were as pale as those on his head, made him tighten his grip on maturity and how serious the matter was. _Motherfucking God, he's beautiful. His father is right. He's perfect. This has to be a spell. I wouldn't touch him. Not here. Not like this. But I'm looking._

He had little time to ridicule his inappropriate appreciation for the gift of sight. Severus's wand poised ten inches over Draco's skin and sent plasmic shoots the size of thread, into four precise corners. These little tracers hooked onto whatever he intended for them to grab. As he worked, he explained, "Each thread will wrap around the object, cauterizing as it detaches it. The object will loosen and slip free, if it is not attached to deeper constraints. Spells are fading as we speak and his cells are stimulated to immediate healing as the object creates its own point of exit. The threads will close each minute rupture behind it. You won't notice his scars unless you look for them."

Harry wanted to say something, but he was both mesmerized and horrified by the ten pee-sized bump this produced on Draco's skin. If he were awake, that would be excruciating.

"People assume that since the body is immediately whole, very little recuperation is required. But because his cells are undergoing an acceleration of rapid tissue replacement, he will require three weeks of mild activity and a strict diet to replace significant mineral consumption."

All Harry heard and saw, was the sound of his own heart as he looked from the emerging bump to Draco's tense face, to the bump again. Skin pulled so taut over the foreign object, that he didn't understand why it wasn't breaking, when everywhere else its integrity was so thinned. But then it did break, with a splatter that had those threads burning away the blood as soon as it appeared. Snape dabbed the most of it away before it could impress upon Harry's mind any deeper. Only stained skin remained, and that was cleaned to a surface of creamy, sterile perfection within seconds.

Snape gave Harry two seconds to view the object, using blue flame to burn away impurities and residue. That was enough time for Harry to see that it didn't look like any birth control he was familiar with. Draco had said that he was taking a potion, not wearing an implant.

"How did that get inside him?"

"He put it there."

Severus appeared to let his wand take a snap-shot of the objects specifications. He then handed it to Harry with instructions to keep it somewhere near Draco, but out of his reach. "Hide it close. We don't know what the side-effects will be, and might need to refer to it later."

"What is that?" Lucius held to his spot like a man frightened to come any closer. "What did I just see?"

"Your son's attempt to control his life. It's wizard-made. He's consulted the illegal market. He was that desperate."

Before Lucius could formulate a response, Draco lurched into a coughing fit that backed up in his throat. Severus released his mobility protection. Draco convulsed into a series of coughs that expelled spots of blood from his mouth. His eyes opened, just as alarmed at those looking at him. Severus thought quickly and returned his pajamas, along with the covers.

"There's no risk of infection now, but he will have to eject the rest of the poison. This device accounts for fifty percent of the magic engaged in his body. It represents a core. Every charm attached to it, has to deteriorate. "

Anguished cries tried to make intelligent words, but Draco hugged himself and glared at them, unable to make his voice cooperate.

"He's hurting." Harry stated.

"It will pass. Then it will come and go as he adapts to life without continuous charms and chemicals to prevent pregnancy."

Draco bent around his pain. "Fuck!" was the most intelligible word they could readily understand. Hatred rimmed the redness of his eyes and when he wasn't cursing and coughing up blood, he was glaring at Harry with something akin to vengeance.

"I know it hurts, I know," Harry tried to tell him. "But you don't have to hide anymore. And you're not going to need that.'

He reached for him, and found his arm quite strongly knocked away. "Dontchufuckingtuchme!"

Just then, an earth-scraping roar reminded them that a dragon was still in their midst. It shook the house. Implications glistened in Severus's pupils, but he remained poised. "His patronis has registered the change. I don't know if it agrees with him or not. It represents him, so likely it will be enraged until he no longer is."

Harry had to believe that Draco didn't mean the profanity and rage thrust at him. "Can we give him something for the pain?"

Outside, Narcissa and Lily could hear Draco's distress and were threatening to blast the door open if they were not allowed in. Lucius stood frozen against the wall.

"His physical pain is nothing compared to his emotional pain. I'm afraid, the only thing I can do for that, for now, is put up more wards to prevent him from self-harm. If I were you, I would leave him to his feelings until he spent himself. You have no hope of getting through to him until he's fulfilled his right to be angry. He's intelligent. He knows this is for his own good. He knows you care about him. He's too powerful to have allowed it otherwise."

"And after this? Will he be okay?"

"After this, you and he will get a new start. A rough one, but a new one. He's not in the clear. In fact, now that his magic is freed up, it will rush to be rid of all agreements that are not serving him. You will aide him in that. The sooner you help him integrate his feelings, the sooner you can get on with your marriage. But there is some house cleaning yet to do, and I'm afraid his dragon remains because it has a role to play. I will speak to you privately about that. If we don't let those mothers in, we will find this house in splinters all around us, without shelter, and with a very angry dragon over our heads."

Severus nodded at Lucius, who still had trouble processing what he'd seen. Harry felt sorry for him.

"I'll get him," Severus indicated Lucius. "Let the ladies see that he's awake, then let him come to terms at his own pace."

Harry nodded. "I will."

The door flew open just as Severus grasped Lucius's shoulder. His touch was respectful, but eclipsed by the arrival of Narcissa's tearful declaration at seeing Draco awake and blinking back at them.

"Darling!" She threw herself, very unlady-like, on the bed, ignoring Harry completely. Draco could not escape her embrace and seemed paralyzed to vent his fury on her the same way he had at Harry. His stare filled with watery venom and he aimed it at Harry.

Accepting, Harry let himself feel the satisfaction and relief of having him back. He would take an angry husband over an unconscious one, any day. He turned his back and unwrapped the device given to him. Severus had cleaned, studied it, and promptly told Harry to hide it close by.

"I may have to engineer a less harmful replacement. Keep it safe."

His idea of safe, was wrapping it back up and tucking in it the room's chest of drawers. He put it there, discreetly, while Narcissa's pampering blocked Draco's view. It belonged to Draco, and he didn't feel right carrying it off, outright. It was out. Draco was safe. That's all that mattered.


	11. Raining Down

Draco was allowed to see his parents in private, first. Harry waited outside the door. It was a short reunion, and the Malfoys came out in less than pleased spirits. Lucius's composure appeared to have suffered a blow it couldn't recover from. Narcissa looked especially upset with Harry.

Harry pointed out the bright side. "He's awake. It worked. That's progress, right?"

"He's inconsolable. We can't talk to him. You must fix this, Mr. Potter."

"He's awake, isn't he? I'm doing my best."

She drew herself up. "Are you? He won't look at us. He won't speak to us."

He felt like pointing out that he wasn't the one who made Draco feel desperate enough to do that to himself to begin with. Instead of arguing with her, he pushed by them and entered the room, slamming the door just hard enough to make his annoyance known. The last hour had been a hell of a ride, and they still weren't grateful. He had no time to stew on it, as Draco was watching him.

He sat up, colorless, and winding his sheets through fretful grips that drew them into fisted knots. The way distrust emanated from him, he reminded Harry of a caged animal. Terrified to find itself alive and at the mercy of another.

"How do you feel?"

Those glassy, red eyes narrowed. Harry expected them to expel hatred like acid. But what came, were tears. Watery, thin, and streaming.

"Give it back."

Draco shook. Minute tremors moved his hair. He pushed it back from his steaming face and asked Harry again. "I need it."

"It was making you sick. You said it was a potion, not something inside of you."

"It is. I don't have to explain to you how it works."

"It delivers a chemical? A hormone? The wizard who took it out, can read our marriage contract. He says the marriage sees it as a breach. It won't let you keep it."

Draco's expression groaned for him. He shuddered on anger that took his breath.

"We have to talk. It can't wait. What did you mean when you said you didn't 'mean to hurt' your baby? It was the last thing you said before you passed out. I need to know."

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. And I'm not budging until you tell me about it."

Draco sighed, "I can't do this. Why are you dragging me back there?"  
"If there is a child in trouble, we have to fix that first. Did you have a baby with this Kevin person? Did you hurt it, to hurt him?"

"If I could use my magic, you'd be dead right now. How dare you assume the worst about me?"

"That's what you left me with! Then calm my fears and tell me something that makes sense."

"I can't even focus right now. I can't talk to you about anything. You've made it impossible."

"No, it was impossible when you were unconscious. Now you're awake. Tell me everything."

"Give it back!"

"How do you even know it's gone?"

"So much is gone. Just give it back. I can put it back in. I know how."

"You need magic to do that. You said yours isn't working."

"As long as I'm in this state, I can't get anything to work. Give me the device, and I could… I could build up my strength. I could get it to work, and then I'd be okay."

"Severus says it's poisoning you."

"It's saving my life. Without it, I'm going to go crazy. You don't know what you've done. This Severus person has made everything worse. He had no right to touch me."

Harry could hardly believe the tears. Draco let them flow now. He wasn't even trying to hide it now.

"Then tell me what I've done. I let it happen. Tell me why you need it. I want to hear it from you."

"I can't talk to you about this. Please! You have no idea."

"You keep saying that. All you have to do is tell me."

"You're my husband. You're supposed to trust me. I'm in constant pain without it."

"It's a wizard's form of birth control, isn't it?"

Draco shook his head. "It's more than that. I promise, I'll tell you, but you have to let me come to it on my own. I'll… accept you. I'll be your husband. I'll do whatever you want. Just give it back. You're fucking destroying me."

If this was an act, it was horrifyingly convincing. The person who'd locked himself in the bathroom all night, had done so to keep from showing this. Surely. There was no more ego, no more pride. Just a man forced into a very tiny place, for people who were at there most helpless. A child, who had no where else to go. Harry felt like he'd followed Draco and finally trapped him in his hiding place. He was sorry for that.

"I'm not trying to hurt you."

"How can you say that? You've taken everything. My magic, my independence, my name. All in one night. And now you've taken something from my body. You have no limits. You think you're such a good and upright person, but all you've done since you've met me, is take, take, take. I'm begging you, give it back."

At this point, Draco lost his ability to talk and succumbed to his emotions. Harry wiped his own eyes clear, and left the bed. He had to purge his head. To be someone unable to think for himself at the moment, Draco was making far too much sense. He didn't know what was right anymore. Suddenly, removing the implant, even to save his life, seemed equal to invading his home and stealing from him. Worse. The body really is the temple, and he had no right to enter without permission. Not even to safe Draco's life.

It wasn't a sexual assault, but it was an equal violation. Yes, people have a right to throw their lives away if they want to, but he'd be damned if he was going to watch it happen. If that made him a controlling husband, then so what.

"I've taken matters into my own hands because you wouldn't. You could've made all these decisions by making one. Staying home yesterday. Why did you come here? Why did you let me see you? I wasn't going to be able to leave you alone once I saw you. You know that. Why?"

"You know why."

"To shut your parents up. You put us through all that, because you couldn't tell them no. I won't say you deserve this, but you haven't given me much of a choice."

Draco sniffed. "You just said it."

"I'll give it back to you if you tell me what happened to your baby." He would. He'd smash it, but he'd give it back.

He went to the bed. "I hate that I'm hurting you. But I'm not going to be swayed by your tears. You've had five years to cry. I've had one evening to wrap my head around this, and I'm still willing to have you. No, I still want you more than anything. Every breakthrough with you, makes me more certain of that. But this is too serious. A baby is too serious. If you've hurt it, I have to get help for you in a different way. I have to know what you've done."

"You asshole. I don't go around hurting babies, Potter."

"What happened?"

"You think you have the right to know everything. To drag a person's life from them."

"Don't change the subject."

"This is the subject. You and your demands."

"What happened?"

"Don't push me. If I have no magic and no secrets, then I have nothing to loose."

"What happened?"

"Id' rather die than tell you."

"I've got all night."

"You don't control me. I don't care who you are."

"If you don't tell me, and give me a chance to do what's best, I'll have to tell everyone there's a child involved. Your father knows about the birth control. He doesn't know that you've already had a child. He just thinks you're sexually active. You still get to keep your secrets."

Draco wiped his face and shuddered. "I won't let you put me back there."

His face struggled with some decision. Harry dared to touch his arm. "You think it's too soon form me to feel love for you, but it's not. I wouldn't demand so much, if I didn't love you already."

This got a laugh. A bitter, wet sob. "You sound just like my father."

Harry thought this was a good sign, and he leaned in to be closer. But he and Draco were thinking different things. He didn't know what was happening until he felt Draco's shove. Not timid and weak, but hard enough to get it right the first time. Even when he fell back, he told himself he would be the better man and not fight it. That left him naively open to a two-handed fist that caught him under his jaw. The message stunned his limbs. From the floor, he watched Draco throw back his sheets and run for the window. Instead of taking a few precious seconds to open it, he drove his body against it like a mindless bird, hellbent on its own destruction.

He's not strong enough. Harry's brain objected to what it saw as he strained to pick himself up. Against all reason and logic, Draco's angular shoulders punctured a place for itself, taking the rest of the glass with it. His entire body dashed, transformed by his speed and determination, to be free of that room. He flowed like liquid, through an opening that should've cut him to pieces and stopped his flight.

To Harry, this was a demonstration of magic. Of someone convinced they didn't have it. The window's ward was not as strong as the bathroom window downstairs, because this part of the house was more lived in and frequented with with occupants, but Draco had gotten past it all the same. Did his dragon compromise that too?"

He screamed for Draco. The others outside, heard the breakage, heard something in his voice, and came running.

Impossible, Harry told himself as he found his balance and stumbled to the window. He ignored everyone's questions. It was obvious what had happened. He let them put it together and searched to find Draco through the rain. The dragon roared, letting him know that he'd fucked up. He didn't have to be told. He could see the lawn, and sheets of water still coming down. He looked, to make sure Draco wasn't lying down there injured. They were two stories up and he should've been splayed in the grass with broken bones, at the very least. Harry's heart beat brutally as he stretched to find him. His parents pulled him back. He fought them, growing frantic at the thought of Sirius and Remus joining in. If he didn't go after Draco, he wouldn't be able to. They'd use their magic to keep him in. He got one leg on the sill. His father's arms wrapped around his chest and wouldn't let go.

"You can't go out there."

"Neither can he."

He didn't want to strike out against his dad, but both of them began to show force. The more James pulled, the more violent Harry's refusal became.

"Harry, I swear to god, I will hex you."

Harry never heard him. He saw Draco's dim form run across the lawn. Pajamas clung to him like unshed skin. He moved erratically, like he didn't know where he was going, but he was physically intact and alive. Harry had to get down there. Draco might've hit an artery or something. He let his father pull him back in.

"Okay, okay."

"Now what the hell happened?"

The Malfoys waited by the bed. Lucius looked stricken. "What did you do this time?"

He took a moment to catch his breath. He made them think he was going to stand there and tell them everything. He made it look really hard to confess his screw up to them. But all of that was a distraction. It gave him the determination he needed to plot his get away and set his speed, just as Draco had done. Sirius and Remus blocked the door. He left them stumbling from the force of his impact, and everyone else gaping at him, when he shot through them to get downstairs. He willed his magic to give him what it took to get outside and find Draco.

His family pursued him, and once again set off on chase through the house. Mild charms, meant to slow him, bounced off the walls after him. His flight took him past the gawking faces of Hermione, Ron, and Blaise, as he passed them on the stairs. They parted instinctively, falling away like bowling pins as Harry pushed through them. There was no time for them to be embarrassed or awkward at eavesdropping. That's exactly what they'd been doing for the last forty minutes, and when his eyes met theirs, they all knew it. He forgave them in that same instant and hoped they felt his apology as he knocked them down to get to Draco.

The three couldn't pick themselves up until Mr. and Mrs. Potter ran through, followed by a set of disheveled blond people, who could only be the Malfoys, followed by Sirius, who cursed to keep from stepping on them, and Remus, who apologized for everyone. The wizard, Severus, remained at the top of the landing, unmoving. His calm solemnity and folded arms told them that he would not be joining the family parade. They took this as permission to get back on their feet and quickly followed after the others.

Harry's flight took him through the entertainment room, where most of the guests waited. It was one of the largest rooms on the floor and divided the house in a way that made it the obvious choice to get back outside. This time, he made no apologies for a speed that seemed hostile and knocked a few people out of his way. People clamored to part for him. Someone couldn't move fast enough. Frustrated, he tripped over chords that had come out of their safety tracks. It was a cable, connecting a laptop to the media console. The computer ripped right out of Dudley's hands. It would've crashed if Emerald's reflexes hadn't caught it. Harry looked at them, put off. He scrambled to his feet and continued his pursuit. Seated guests stood, and those standing strained to see the commotion over the others.

By the time James and the others ran through, voices could be heard demanding to know what was going on.

Dudley thanked Emerald, chalking her quickness up to being a witch. She smiled demurely, letting him, and sat back down beside him.

He told her, "Boy, Harry's having a rough time of it. I don't think I ever want to get married."

Her smile became wistful. "Hmm, me either," she lied.

When he was searching for suitable music, to keep everyone happy, he'd come across Harry's files on the computer. Since he knew it was a family computer, used to download movies and probably showcase James's jewelry presentations, he'd clicked on the file labeled Draco. He was curious. What's his cousin putting himself through this for? He didn't realize he'd be impressed. He got permission from Gamy to show it to everyone on the wall screens. "Since we can't meet the real person yet, I think we'd all like to see this."

Everyone quieted when the lights dimmed a little. It wasn't necessary to lower them, but Dudley felt that what they were about to see, needed some sort of introduction. He hadn't watched the end of it, but the ten minutes that had him stuck like glue, struck him as critical information. If ever there was a time to make an announcement, it was this. He used the speaker system through the microphone of the computer. "Ladies and gentlemen, my grandmother has given me permission to show this to you. You may all be wondering why we can't leave and why we can't meet the new member. I am too. But Harry's worth the wait. And he's actually left something on his hard drive, that you might want to see. If you would, turn your attention to the screens. With my lovely assistant, Emerald, I'm figuring out the buttons now. Bear with me. There we go. I give you, Draco Malfoy, Harry's husband."

Astonished delight followed the sight of Draco's theater-screen sized image, as his story began to unfold. At first, chatter bristled, moving like a wave throughout the room, until vehement shushes made it clear that some people could understand the language and wanted to hear what was being said. Dudley held his breath that nothing untoward was in the documentary, and when it was over, he casually let it slip that there was another one. They wanted to see it. A lot of them were genuinely surprised that Draco was more than just his looks and money. It put the marriage into context and gave them a stronger reason to cheer them on as a couple. By the time it was over with, they were visibly relaxed about their prolonged stay, but making comments that addressed their concern for whatever was causing the delay in meeting him.

Gamy was so touched by their acceptance, she released the gift bottles of wine that Blaise had brought. It was a stronger drink than what was being served, and she felt they all deserved that.

She'd been sitting outside the french doors when Harry ran past. She made no attempt to stop him. Severus had performed a miracle when he awoke Draco. She knew that the night would be full of miracles before it was over with.

She'd been glad to see Severus. He'd been treated poorly as Lily's friend. She once tried to tell him that only truly extraordinary wizards were ridiculed unfairly, until they learned to protect themselves. There'd been no way to convince him of his potential when he was fourteen. He wouldn't even look her in the eye back then. His long hair hid his skinny face, and kept the world from seeing the true light of it. He appeared to love Lily in place of loving himself, and it wasn't her place to explain to him that a woman needs more than a puppy's loyalty. If he didn't like himself, he didn't have anything her daughter could depend on. But she always felt his magic and hoped he'd wake up from his self-dejection. He was harmless, yet he attracted James's jealousy.

"I'm glad you came back," she told him when they had a moment together. She touched his face, trying to say so much more. She'd known him at such a young age, it was like raising a third child and being unable to hear a word from him for seventeen years.

His smile was subtle, but he gave a slight bow of comprehension.

Now, as she watched Harry race by, she extended her magic to him. She couldn't act for him, but whatever his intentions were, she could give him aide. She took out one of her hair pins. When James and his entourage ran by, she zapped the lot of them with a disorientation charm. By the time they got to the lawn, they'd be too confused about Harry's direction. They would have to give up and come back, letting Harry solve this problem on his own.

The storm wasn't as bad as before, but Harry still had a hard time in the rain. The day was brighter, but still cut his home off from a lot of light. Swollen clouds blocked out all view of the landscape beyond his property. The dragon gurgled and belched overhead. He tried not to think about being exposed to it. But there was a green cast to every surface, and a constant reminder that his home was now a battle ground for magic. He tried not to think at all, squinting to hold his eyes open in the downpour. He looked for movement. He looked for footprints, then remembered that Draco was out here in bare feet. Something about that tore his stomach up worse than fearing the dragon. In the midst of berating himself for not taking him seriously when he'd said he had nothing to lose, he saw a streak out of the corner of his eye.

Lightning lit up Draco's back. His pajamas were so wet, Harry could see his underwear through them. As Draco turned, he ran. Harry had the benefit of knowing the layout of his landscaping, while Draco didn't know if he was running down the drive or into the garden. Fog played a huge part in deterring him from the path that led to Harry's gate. He changed direction. Magic must've been on his side because he dodged Harry, who had on shoes and got better traction. When Harry got close enough to grab the hem of Draco's shirt, it sent the other into a frenzy not to be trapped. He lashed out and tripped his way out of Harry's grip. The dragon roared, stopping them both. Green fire blasted in their direction.

Draco looked terrified and took off for what he might've thought was shelter. Harry didn't know what he was thinking. He only saw a green streak send Draco off course, from hedges denoting the garden's entrance, to a shallow pool that served as his Gamy's meditation fountain. Draco appeared to be fighting something other than the rain. He screamed out. He put his hands to his ears. He clung to one of the rolling shade umbrellas that had blown off the balcony and looked as though he was using it to shield himself. There was lots of debris in the yard and each time Harry advanced, Draco retreated, keeping an obstacle coarse between them. Harry finally backed him against the edge of the pool, certain he couldn't go around fast enough, and putting money on his ability to catch him if he jumped in the water.

"Come back with me! You'll catch your death out here."

Stubbornly, Draco jumped into the pool. Harry was as pissed as he was glad. At least Draco wasn't hurt by his fall. But he was going to get himself killed if he went on like this. He threw himself into the pool and wrestled the fabric of Draco's shirt into his grip. He endured punches and jabs to get the best hold he could. He couldn't quite pin the arms lashing out at him, but he used his body like lead to pull Draco back to the edge. For that, he got a nice hard kick that had Draco slipping like a wet fish out of his grip. He held his knee and watched Draco take off back towards the lawn. Dragon flames shot down into the water, lighting up the bottom of the pool and turning it to boiling water. Green vapor blasted Harry, pushing him away from it. He lost precious seconds catching up with Draco.

When he caught sight of his long, narrow back, he never lost it again, and pumped to tackle him. Draco's legs were longer, but he was no athlete, and Harry threw his full weight at him. It was so effective in bringing Draco down, he was immediately sorry, remembering the surgery that had only taken place minutes ago. That's what he thought Draco's burst of sobs were about.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

Instead of answering, Draco brought his fists together and Harry remembered the superfist that landed him on his back in the room. He blocked it, baring his teeth and pressing down hard on Draco's arms.

"You will not do that again."

Draco sneered through the pellets hitting his face. "You don't own me!"

He looked like he wanted to spit in Harry's face, and Harry was tempted to return the violence with a good slap. But he knew that slip would cost him everything. That wasn't who he was and he didn't know where Draco had learned it, but he wasn't going to tolerate spousal abuse in his house. To join it, was to condone it.

"Let go of me! That's my dragon, if I want it to kill me, it will."

Water dripped from Harry's chin, onto Draco's face. "Is that what you want? To die?"

"I thought I made that clear. It's not my fault if your stupid house won't let me. I still have a say over my life."

He looked distracted all of a sudden, and Harry glanced up at the sky. The dragon circled. He saw it now, free from the eaves of the house, cleared from the roof. He knew it was just a patronis, but it bellowed fire at the garage, and they both felt the heat coming off of it.

"Over hear!" Draco yelled.

Harry pressed his grip. "Don't you dare."  
The dragon sent another stream of fire down, scorching the entire length of the driveway. Asphalt bubbled, releasing black vapor into the air.

Harry shook Draco. "It's just a patronis. How's it doing that?"

Draco's chin jutted out. "Magic. You have yours, I have mine."

"You said your magic doesn't work."

"Look above you! He's all the magic I have left."

"Make him stop."

"No."

Another blast displaced dirt and rock, turning a stretch of lawn into a trench. Harry pulled Draco out of its path and drug him towards the house. Draco fought the whole way, screaming at his dragon to go ahead and deliver the killing blast. "Do it! Do it."

Harry felt ridiculous for being afraid, but he couldn't take chances. And he couldn't move with Draco as fast as he wanted. Then he remembered that the dragon was only an extension of Draco's emotions, and he stopped trying so hard. He even let Draco tear from his arms, momentarily. The other was so bent on baiting the creature, Harry's attack caught him off guard. He landed on his back and this time Harry crawled on top and didn't give him a chance to speak. His kiss came hard and determined. He knew this wasn't the time or the place, all the more reason for putting as much of himself into it as possible. He couldn't hold back. That meant heating a cold, wet soppiness, as unsexy and unappealing as a dead fish, to peak temperature and arousal, as fast and convincing as he could. Not sex, but the demand for Draco himself. And it was a demand. He had to invest everything he had in Draco, for the other to understand why he needed to call the dragon off.

At first, he didn't want to be gross. He didn't want to repulse his husband, so he kept his mouth closed. In his mind, open-mouthed kisses were for after things were already heated up. He only wanted to kindle something, to use honest desire to distract Draco's pain. He was prepared to look like an idiot if it didn't work. Draco pushed against him and tried to turn his head. Threat of rejection had Harry desperate to prove he wasn't wrong. He blocked out the rain and the cold wet grass beneath them. He blocked out the profanity and curses each time Draco's mouth escaped him. He made the split second decision that it had to be more. He had to risk more, to prove his point.

He used all of his weight to make a place for himself, so that Draco could not throw him off. Neither could he close his legs and Harry took advantage of where their bodies connected. Between Draco's wet pajamas and his soaked trousers, there was nothing hidden in the nest of their friction. He had no intention of hurting Draco, but he couldn't let go. Not until he communicated something. Some voltage inside of him said that none of this mattered. The lies, the device, the dragon. All of it were props contributing to the greatest excitement of their lives. That voltage sparked, sending signals, filling arteries, and flooding him with a building need to sink deeper into Draco's body. Instead of being embarrassed by the expansion of his erection, he ground it into Draco, wanting him to know that it was there. Draco's gasp was music to his ears. Hands still tore at him to get him off, but warmth settled between their bodies, and Draco's insistence was not as strong as it was a moment before.

He opened his mouth, letting Harry inside, but his body wasn't at peace with this decision, and it continued to make Harry fight for what he wanted. He was still angry, this proved nothing, but his legs opened to Harry's weight and his pelvis met each thrust from Harry without him giving his consent. Suddenly they weren't the personalities that had them fighting each other, they were two people who needed to be touched, who were starved for pleasure and the simple comfort of blocking out their pain long enough to feel this. Draco's breath caught as Harry pushed into him, sliding the folds of their clothes until the wrinkled fabric served to conduct touch, rolling skin in ways they weren't ready to do with their hands. Not only did Draco stop fighting it, he gripped Harry's neck and rode the strength of being held down. Chest to chest, Harry's grinding touched places in him that he'd forgotten about. They stopped all thought, injecting pleasure, not just from their crushed groins, but from the center of Draco's being. Some core, some dark place. A rift tore open and white fire shot out like volcanic rock on an ocean floor. Some deep, uninhabitable place opened up inside him, releasing a light that hadn't shown for ages. Pleasure was the closest thing to happiness, and when Harry drove it into him, he wept to feel his body respond.

His cries admitted how long he'd gone without this. His body squirmed, warring with his mind to accept it. Neither of them wanted penetration, they just wanted wherever the friction was leading them. Panting into Draco's mouth, Harry's body took off on its own. As Draco returned his kisses, he understood that the body beneath him, wasn't agreeing with him. It wasn't okay with this. This was the person who had not had sex in five years, and had probably done everything to avoid so much as a thought that would lead to it. Their heat felt so good, so all consuming, he would've bet that Draco hadn't even masturbated, and caught a lustful glimpse of Draco crying and rubbing his shorts simply to get the swelling to go away. A split second fantasy. It rushed him to his destination. He wanted to give Draco everything he had, to make up for the last five years, for that asshole boyfriend, and for whatever secrets he still felt he had to hide.

He could've hated that it came down to sex, to being nothing more than a comforting live-action erection, to be used in an emergency capacity. But it was doing the trick. He couldn't hear the dragon and he didn't know what it was doing. He measured his strokes by the sound of Draco's moans, and kept going until he couldn't hear him anymore, for losing himself in a nystagmus-inducing jet of tremors that had his eyes rolling under their lids.

Above them, in a cloud formation that ascended the heavens in layers, the dragon charged straight down. It sent fire in advance of its great body. It gathered leathery wings, used muscular tendons connecting their webbed membrane, connecting to a cavernous rib cage, and a striated diaphragm that swelled to splitting proportions. It released. With laser precision, that flame found its target. Gale force and gases colored Harry's and Draco's world green. It burned all illusions away. They shuddered, clutching each other in one world, and woke up in another.


	12. Disorientation

Harry woke to a sight that made him feel like he was falling off of the planet. There was so much blue sky, he looked for something to hold on to. His hands clutched grass for security. He raised his head, saw that he lay on an overgrown hillside, and let his heart flood with relief. This dream was familiar. And now that he knew it was, he set his fear aside. Such beauty and limitlessness, always felt terrifying after coming from a place where everything had boundaries, where up was up and down was down, and security measures were built in for a fearful race of people. He was home. He didn't know what had done it, but he was back where the sun felt good again, and he let it soothe him. He'd just come from a place, from events, that were really hard. Maybe he wasn't going to make it this time. There was just so much heaviness regarding that other place, and a person rejecting him.

It took sitting there, waking up slowly to the play of light and gentle breezes, to help him acclimate to the field around him. Wild flowers and birds casting shadows between him and the sun, accentuated that this was a place of peace. Of truce. Try as he might, he couldn't remember how he got here. Feelings of the most delicious warmth, of kissing, and sensual contact, were pulled from his grip, and wafted like scented memories that he couldn't place. Then he spotted the person hiding in the grass. Not hiding, but hidden. His white hair gave him away.

The guy lay face up, in fancy clothes that denoted his skill. His leather harness lay stripped from his shoulders and clung around his hips. His shirt, blistering white under the sun's glare, pealed open at the collar. Harry appreciated the sight and tried to interpret what it was telling him. This beautiful boy was everything and he didn't dare wake him too soon. That much, he knew. They always left each other. Maybe if he sat there, kept still, and said nothing to disturb the atmosphere, he'd watch him sleep longer this time. He could stay.

He took in the slope of the hill. So very steep. Only someone comfortable with living between worlds, could ever make a home here. That's when he noticed the dragon. It was no longer swollen to epic proportions, but was still a pretty damn good-sized creature. It perched lazily on the slope, wings folded and tail making occasional snake-like twitches on its own. Blue-green scales glistened iridescently, like oil slicks. The memory of looking at it in terror, accelerated his recall. That's when he noticed the little hut that wasn't there before. The top of it peaked above the hill line, behind the dragon. He stood. It was definitely a hut. A home. Something told him that was important because it simply appeared. Like an award. Maybe they were doing better than he thought.

He wanted to go and look inside, but he didn't want to wake Draco. Their moments were too few and too precious as it was. Any sudden disturbance could break his concentration and throw him from this dreamscape, back into the confusion he'd just left. Here, was where all the information was. Here, Draco slept like an angel, whose peace could not be disturbed. He could've watched him forever.

But his love of the image, was as much a culprit in stirring the other to move, as anything. His desire for him, affected Draco and woke him up.

Draco. A peculiar name. They wouldn't bother with names at all, except that it was a clue about why they were here. No matter what names they used, they were always the same people, the same bundle of energy and impulses. The same insistence on what they preferred at all times. And that's how they knew each other. By a uniqueness that no one else could claim, because everyone had their own. Draco felt wonderful. He felt like permission to do anything, and that's how he knew him. Not by his name. Not by his appearance. But all of that was there somehow, encapsulated in the package that announced its name.

Draco stretched his slender body, twisting to Harry's delight and absorbing as much of the sun beaming down at him as possible. Brown threads of his trousers and his bright shirt, returned the heated light tenfold, back at Harry. He squinted at the day, covered his eyes, and sat up.

"Are we back?"

Harry looked around. "I think so."

"For good?"

"It's never for good."

"Oh, I love being here! How far did we get?"

Harry admired the way the grass billowed around him. "Not far enough. I don't want to go back."

As he said it, he meant it. And in that meaning, his memory opened. When they were _here_, there, was nothing but a dream. When they were _there_, here wasn't even a memory. What did he have to do to claim both worlds? To make them one ideal place?

Draco laughed. His smile said that he'd never taken anything seriously a day in his life. It bothered Harry that he could get that smile here, and not there, where it mattered. Draco saw the unhappiness on his face and clamored on his knees to him.

"Don't. You'll set us back another millennium."

"I can't help it. You don't remember there. You won't let me help you. Your pain is tremendous."

"And it's just an illusion. You can do this. Every time we get close, we lose each other. Don't be afraid to push. I want you to." He chuckled. "Save me from myself. That's my favorite."

"This isn't funny. You recover from the pain immediately. I don't."

"And the more you bring it back with you, the more you limit our world. Stop it. I love you and you're doing great."

"Then why can't I get the truth out of you? I don't know what else to do."

Draco kissed him. On the other side, as pleasant as it was, it was just a kiss. But on this side, was an injection of inspiration and memory, and reminded Harry of why they were together in the first place. It was innocence wrapped in lust, aching wonder teased into fulfillment. It lingered on the tip of his tongue and he fed it to Harry, who bent to get as much as he could.

As soon as he recovered, Harry said, "You have to tell me. It'll release you."

"I want to, but it's not that easy. You'll hate me. You'll run from me. It's too much for you."

"Nothing you could ever do is too much for me."

"Well it's too much for me. I hate what I did. I hate myself. I want to stay here."

"Didn't you set it up for me? Don't you want this grand gesture? If you let me through, we get to have this on that side. We get to live life like we designed it. We haven't had that before. Not like we could. Every life is a struggle. Every life, we hurt someone or kill someone. We've played every part. We keep hurting each other. Now we have a chance to pass our own test. What do we have to be afraid of?"

He looked to see if this was sinking in. Draco's pattern of emotion suddenly felt dense, like he wanted to shut Harry out. Harry rushed to explain himself. There was a time when no explanation would've been needed. But they were too much a part of their extended lives and personalities now. When they suffered int that other world, they brought it back here. When they drew from this world, they brought it there. This blending was a gamble. The goal was to end up with a sanctuary outside of life and death, where they could keep everyone they'd ever loved, especially each other.

"I'm tired of dying without you. I'm tired of letting you slip from my arms. Off to another life, where we don't know each other and we have to earn that all over again. Not only do we know each other now, we're this close to having a child. If our magic joins like that, we'll be given our memories permanently. We get to keep this world, this magic. We get to make it every bit as part of our physical lives as we have it here. But if we keep playing this game, you're going to hurt yourself and who knows when I'll find you again."

Draco looked away, at his own doubts.

"We're awake, outside of time, outside of limitation. That's everything. I don't want to go back to sleep, convinced I'm just a kid who can't make any difference in the world. Convinced I can't have you. It's been adventurous, to say the least. But it's also been painful as hell and we poison our world when we bring it back with us. There's no reason to put ourselves through that anymore. So what, if the world is asleep and can't accept a universe of happiness and everything given through magic. I won't deny us, just because a reality full of people don't think this is real. I won't deny myself, just because others haven't figured it out. Haven't woken up. If we tried to explain this, they'd call us insane. So screw them. Let's take our happiness and run. Let's build a fortress in that world, where we can have a child, and keep everyone out."

"Harry, that all sounds beautiful. But I went too far. It's bad."

"There's no such thing. Whatever happened, you believed it into being, just like we believed these names and these families. We've fought wars together. We've murdered each other. What could you have done?"

"I know those things don't mean anything here, but when we're on that side, and we're locked into those roles, I am that son. I love my mother and father so much. I did agree to what they wanted before my birth. I had no idea how such choices would shape my existence. And now I'm unrecognizable to myself."

"That's the risk with every life. Forgetting who we are. Helping each other remember."  
"I know, and sometimes that's the best part. But this time, it's the worst part, because I got lost in all those promises and trying to be perfect. I convinced myself of the fear, and now I can't let go."

"Give me a clue. It's locked inside you. What can I do to get you to tell me?"

"I don't know, hold me down and kiss me. Like you just did. That seems to make a huge difference. Thank you for this freedom, by the way."

"Great. Now when we go back, everyone's going to be screaming 'assault.'"

"I know. I love it. Thank you. I feel so treasured by all of you. All this fuss, for me." Draco kissed him again and nestled until his head lay on Harry's shoulder.

"Well, I have to make up for what I did to you at Hogwarts, somehow."

"You already did. And I started it."

"We've been doing this for so long. No one knows who started anything."

"I'm glad that we can live out all our desires and problems, without lasting consequences. It's a relief to wake up. I hope the others get to wake up, too."

"They will."

"Harry, let's try something. On that side, I'm really terrified. I can't tell you what I did. It was atrocious, or at least it represents that for me. Pure shame. What if we could bring something soothing from here, over to there?"

"What?"

"Here's a clue. Lay with me in that bed. Show me what was removed from my body. It has tremendous significance. It connects me with what I did. I can't stand the crying. Say to me, as if you were standing on this hillside, part of you will be, 'We'll be so happy together, that we can make it like it never happened.' That's what Draco Malfoy really wants. If you can get him to believe that, he might be able to tell you."

"You think?"

"If the paradise we have here, touches me there, I can't help but think that it has to get me to open up."

"I can try it. We should go. They're going to think we're dead."

"Aren't we? The living never had it so good."

"Why are we still here? We're usually sent back by now."

"Because I don't want to let go. I don't want to go back to all that confusion. My mind is so clear here."

"Then tell me what you did."  
"That's cheating. I'll not cheat us out of a family."

They clung to each other a while longer before a giant shadow eclipsed their sunlight. Draco groaned, knowing what it was. Harry looked up at the creature, remembering how its size and scarred underbelly, never got old. At ground level, its thick scales resembled alligator hide more than they did plates. Its hide got thicker and more colorful as it went up. Looking the dragon in its snout, was a bit disconcerting, because if it caught you, it would lean its long neck down to peer back at you, as if to say, 'How do you like being stared at?'

He knew what the dragon was there fore, and he held onto Draco. "Can't we just glide into that world, on the wings of your pet? Land in some remote area, and take a taxi to the house?"

Draco shook as he laughed. "No. Too much is riding on our entrance. Pun intended. We have to finish what we've started."

Harry gave up and accepted. When the creature lifted its head and rared back with its full intent to blast them, he closed his eyes to the fire that consumed them.


	13. Rebirth

Dudley dug around Harry's old files, seeing if he could find anymore content on Draco. Guests seemed to love the last two presentations, and discussed them in better spirits, now that they knew who the Malfoy young man really was. Beside him, Emerald pointed out the Kpop songs she took credit for getting Harry to like. In truth, he'd downloaded them out of politeness, but a few of them had grown on him.

"We need to find good dinner music," he told her. "Not everyone's going to like that."

She hid her hurt feelings and smiled at him bravely. She was used to people underestimating her tastes. Some of those artists had excellent voices and their songs were really beautiful. Give her time. She conquered Harry, she'd conquer him.

Everyone in the room jumped at the rumble that sounded. A column of green light shot from the ceiling straight down into the floor. It could've been water or fire, no one could tell. Powerful cascades of it, dispersed heat and bursts of vapor, that send people running. It emptied itself onto the carpet, flushing from some other location, into this one. Some got behind tables. Others ran out. When the column stopped pouring, the screams died down. Intense heat and vapor disappeared, but left a sheen of moisture on every surface. In the middle of the floor, it took a moment for guests to get close and realize what they were seeing.

Soaked and unconscious, both Harry and Draco lay next to each other on the floor. Harry, in his casual clothing, and Draco, in his pajamas. An effervescence hovered around them. It was such an inexplicable sight, no one wanted to move any closer to them.

One of Harry's relatives actually asked, "What bewitchment is this?"

Gamy's cane tap, told them to step aside for her. She reached the edge of the circle that formed around the boys, and put her hand to her broach.

"Is that really them?" Someone sounded doubtful.

"Are they even breathing?" A cousin stepped forward to check.

"Don't touch them," she said, looking up at the ceiling. A dark spot appeared where the light had been. "Wait."

They didn't know what it was they were waiting for, until the glow around the boys disappeared.

"Now, please check."

Her legs would not let her get down on the floor very easily, so she waited for the bravest among her family members to confirm. So many strange things were going on, no one knew what was harmless and what would provoke the rogue magic that appeared to be controlling their evening.

James and Lily ran into the room from the opposite side, followed by the Malfoys. When they couldn't find Harry and Draco twenty minutes ago, James resorted to searching on the cameras. Everyone piled behind him, to scan his security monitors. Sirius pointed out the dragon's shadow and strange lights, but they never saw the boys. Hermione's brain worked double time to solve the mystery, keeping clues to herself until she knew what she was looking at.

Ron grew angrier by the minute, feeling that Harry was being dealt a monumentally unfair blow. He whispered to Blaise, "No bloke is worth all this. If he's this much trouble now, what's going to happen when he's sunk roots into this family? I mean, how many signs do you need?"

Blaise saw Draco's father looking at them, and nudged Ron to shut up. When Lucius turned back to the video feed, he applied a muffling charm and whispered to Ron, "We don't know. That could be the worst thing of his life, or it could be his soul mate. Harry's got to find out."

"Rubbish."

Now they waded into the room and joined the crowd around Harry and Draco.

"What's wrong with them?" James directed the question to his mother-in-law. "How'd they get here?"

Lily leapt past him and swooped down between the boys. "Oh my god!" She too, looked to her mother for answers.

Narcissa knelt by Draco. "What's happened to him?"

Gamy shook her head. "They were deposited there." She explained the noise. Emerald interrupted and explained the light. "It was like they were beamed down, right into the room, from a space ship."

Guests nodded, agreeing to that assessment.

Lily shook Harry, then Draco. She exchanged worried concern as Narcissa locked eyes with her. James got down on the floor and shouted Harry's name. When that didn't work, he slapped him lightly, eliciting a gasp from Narcissa.

Harry wrinkled his face and his eyes fluttered open, squinting under the lights. Obscure outlines became faces. Faces became people he recognized, and it took another minute for them to mean anything to him. He heard a slap and his head automatically turned to see Narcissa attempting to wake Draco with the same method used to wake him. People talked in muted voices.

He turned, willing his arm to move towards Draco. It wasn't working. They couldn't wake him. Instead of hearing what was being said around him, Harry only heard his heartbeat. He couldn't move until Draco opened his eyes. He couldn't return, until he knew that Draco had returned with him. He saw his father shove Lucius out of the way, in what looked like slow motion. His dad bent over Draco, tilted his head back to expose his throat, and began using an old form of muggle resuscitation, to force air into his lungs.

Harry reached for Draco's limp hand and closed his eyes on the sight at the same time.

_You can't leave me. You said you'd come back, too._

The last thing he saw, was Sirius pulling James away, and the wizard, Severus Snape, kneeling down with his wand.

He succumbed to exhaustion.

He woke up in his bedroom. Judging by the dark outside, and the stillness of the house, he guessed it to be around midnight. He felt for his phone on the table beside him, and didn't find it. He couldn't remember when he'd had it last. Tapping at the window, told him it was still raining, but he couldn't hear any roars or thunder. He lay there listening, trying to remember what put him here. Conversations were still taking place inside of him, screams and fights, and the hottest kisses that he didn't want to let go of. But he didn't know what context. He only knew the feelings they left behind, like dreams being hidden from him. He couldn't remember going to bed. Then he saw Draco's face in the rain, beneath him, pulling him down by his neck. He sat up. That happened. That really happened.

He couldn't calm himself long enough to look for clothes. Wearing only his undershorts and a T-shirt, he threw open his door and rushed into the corridor, stopping short. His parents and in-laws, along with Remus, Sirius, and his best mates, were all seated outside his room. Chairs had been moved in to accommodate them. A tea service sat pushed against the wall, and Lucius looked askance at his designer underwear and naked thighs. He covered himself with his hands and Hermione looked away. James's face stretched into a smile as Lily blushed for her son. Narcissa startled at Ron's guffaw, but kept her composure.

Harry would not be cowed. People had bodies, so what. "What are you all doing out here? Where's Draco?"

"It's okay, Harry." James told him. "Draco's back in his room. None of us could sleep, and one by one, we decided to camp out here. We've talked. It actually hasn't been that bad."

"That's all lovely, can I see him?"

Lucius wrinkled his nose. "Can you put on some clothes?"

"Of course you can. But he really needs to rest. Why don't you take a minute to get your robe, eat something, and you can go in there with him."

"But don't try to talk to him, you'll only upset him," Lucius pointed out.

Narcissa leaned forward from her chair. "What my husband means is, he hasn't quite recovered. He's still very angry with us. The wizard, Severus, has given him a potion. A sedative. If you do talk to him, choose something that doesn't upset him. He wasn't breathing when you two came back."

"Why?"

"We don't know," James answered. "But it convinced us that we all just need to chill."

His use of the slang, made Ron and Blaise cringe, but Hermione thought it was cute. They were making a point to keep quiet, lest someone realize they probably didn't need to be there. They couldn't leave, and being near Harry felt like the most comforting place to be. But his dilemmas were out of their hands. They could only support him from afar.

"We've been sitting here talking, getting to know each other. Listening to your friends' stories. We still can't leave, so we're just trying to relax and figure out what we're supposed to do. The more we sit here, the more I'm convinced that we're just supposed to come to terms as a family. We were so tense with the negotiations, and then all that with the contract, we haven't actually sat down as a family until now. Unfortunately, it took the threat of losing Draco, to make us approach this in a different way."

While he was talking, Lily got up and squeezed behind Harry. She returned with his robe. "You can't go around like that, honey."

Harry took it. Any other time, he'd love to hear what his father had to say, but all he could think about was getting to Draco.

James shrugged. "Go on, then. No one's stopping you."

Harry entered as softly as he could. The lamp had been lowered again and provided just enough light to let him see that Draco was indeed back in bed. His hair was dry now, and Harry recognized his fresh pajamas as an old pair of his. Wrinkles and all. He let the knob click into place behind him. Draco opened his eyes.

He was such a relief to see, Harry found himself in awe of him. "How do you feel?"

Instead of answering, Draco's stare appeared to condense all that he couldn't say. He regarded Harry for a long moment, before dropping his gaze to the covers.

Harry looked at the window he'd broken. It looked like an old table was dismantled and nailed into place, muggle style, to keep the draft out. It looked awful, but confirmed that people were still having trouble using their magic. Briefly, he wondered if that Severus guy could fix it.

This struck him. The topic he and Draco had been discussing before Draco threw himself out the window, came rushing back to him. He knew he'd woken up alarmed, for a reason. That reason was, how long was it going take him to remember what they were talking about? How long was it going to take to get the truth from Draco? Could he even broach the subject again tonight?

He remembered what Narcissa had said, and made himself promise not to upset Draco. He stepped towards the bed.

Draco said sharply, "Where's the implant you took out of me?"

That road block stopped him.

"Don't think I've forgiven you. I want it back."

He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"This changes nothing. I hope I've proven to you, how much I need it. No piece of plywood is going to keep me in this bed. If you want to be my husband, bring it to me."

"Draco," Harry stopped him. "What happened? How did we get from outside, to down there?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "My dragon. I think if I wanted to, I could have it carry me away from here. I'm giving you another chance to do the right thing. Give it back."

"I promised your parents I wouldn't upset you by talking about it."

"I'm already upset, and that's not going to change until I get back what's mine."

Harry inched closer to the bed.

"Can we not talk at each other, but with each other? They said you weren't breathing. I don't want another setback."

"Then give in."

"If I could, I would. I'd do anything to see you happy." He took cautious steps. Severus had cleaned the device, examined it, and handed it over to him. He knew where it was, but he wasn't about to confess that.

When he was standing over the bed, he waited to see if Draco was going to protest. When all he got was a glare, he eased down, sinking into the mattress. As far as he was concerned, this was a milestone in achievement. Draco awake and tolerating his bedside presence, was a stepping stone to the possibility of one day making up for their lost wedding night.

"Didn't we kiss out there?" He couldn't help it.

"Get your head out of your ass, Potter. I haven't touched a guy in years. That could've been anyone's cock. You were just a warm body, that's all. If you want to mean anything more to me, get me my implant."

"You don't have the magic to put it in."

"I'll get it in. And until I do, I can just hold it. Skin contact. That might help. That's all I need right now."

The phrase, 'skin contact' made Harry think of something else. Something slick and hot on that uncomfortable ground. He remembered what Draco felt like, with cold wet grass stabbing them through their clothes. That kiss had been hard won, but exciting. How could that beautiful mouth twist those ugly words at him now?

"You know, I love you so much, I'm just stupid enough to do that. But I can't. That thing was hurting you."

"You're not my father. You don't get to say what I'm allowed to do. I know where I got it from. I'll jump on my dragon's back and leave you feeling like an idiot for trying to control me."

Harry tried to play the love-sick fool. He tried to swallow the insult. But it was one too many. He was trying too hard, and Draco wasn't trying at all. He realized, he was so terrified of Draco leaving him again, that he was willing to put up with being treated this way. If he grabbed him and shook him, that wasn't going to put him, lifeless, back downstairs. It wasn't going to kill him, but that's the fear he felt.

He took Draco by the arms, not letting go when he pulled away. He made his grip hurt, to emphasize his point.

"What is so goddamn important about that thing? It's not as if you've been with anyone, or are likely to be, the way you've shut me out. You can't get pregnant with a slab of ice between you and everyone who loves you."

He did shake him. "What do you need it for? What! What's it doing for you, besides poisoning you?"

Draco tried to push him away. "You have two seconds to get your hands off of me."

Harry shook harder, suppressing the urge to do worse. "I'm doing everything I can to prove how much I want you, and all you can do is ask for that thing."

Draco snarled, "I'm doing everything I can to prove that I don't want you, and you can't take no for an answer. Yes, I want it back. You have no idea what it does. I'm going crazy without it. I don't have to fucking explain anything to you. I didn't ask to marry you, and I didn't ask you to take it out. You think you love me, but all you've done is demand to have things your way this whole time. Fuck you, Potter!"

They were both red and sweaty. Their voices raised, but hissed rather than shouted. Neither wanted their parents in the room.

Harry let go with enough force that threw Draco against his pillow.

He turned his back and went to the chest of drawers across from the foot of the bed. He wrenched open the first one, pulled out a plastic bag with wadded gauze inside. He unraveled it and looked at the tiny object. Instead of gently handing it over, he drew back and threw it hard as he could against Draco's chest. They both heard it pop, thudding off of his breast plate.

"If I've lost you to that, I'm not going to be nice about it."

The thing must've traveled on magic, certainly on Harry's anger. It hit, a projectile, stunning Draco with pain more piercing than expected. Eyes widened, and his mouth fell open as he absorbed the impact. His hand flew to the spot and Harry could tell that it must've stung. Draco couldn't make a sound while he waited out the burn. The object tumbled into his covers. His eyes watered, blurring the sight of Harry, and washing feelings from him that poured out his true emotions. That device, a plastic piece of muggle and wizard black market technology, punctured something inside of him, and all of his fears appeared to fall out in front of Harry.

Draco's face broke against a storm inside of him. He covered it, but not before Harry saw that he'd hit his target. Honesty looked tragic on Draco. His slender hands could only do so much to contain all that he held back. His sobs took the form of great heaves that would barely let him breathe. Harry sat back down on the bed and waited them out.

He tried to be mindful of the distance Draco wanted between them. But the sounds he heard, said that withholding his touch right now, would've been cruel. So he leaned in and wrapped both arms around him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You don't deserve that. I'm so sorry."

He took the liberty of kissing Draco's head, and guiltily smelling the natural oils through his hair. He hated that it cost Draco this much, but this was where he wanted to be. This close. This needed. He couldn't hope to get another word through to him, so he held him through the crest of his tidal wave. Both of them were swept away by it. All he could do was hang on. His kisses, around Draco's head, grew more confident, and Draco grew more accepting of them.

"Tell me," Harry whispered. "Why do you still want it?"

Draco's throat sounded clogged. He cleared it. "I need it."

"Why?"

"It's the only thing that stops the crying."

Crying? Who's crying? "Your crying?"

Draco shook his head. "No. His. The baby's."

Harry waited, poised over the edge of insanity again. This time, he wasn't going to let either of them fall off.

"I hear him all the time. Since the day it happened. No one else can hear him but me. He's alive in spirit. And he's so hurt by what I did. And I'll have to listen to him cry until I put a gun to my head and join him. As long as he's crying, I don't have any right to enjoy myself. I can't be happy. I can't be someone's husband and make a life. Without that implant, I hear him night and day. So even if my body could respond to you, I can't let this go any further. I need it back inside of me."

"Do you hear him now?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. It never goes away."

"Is it a curse?"

"I've cursed myself."

"What happened."

"I left him. I left him on the floor. I abandoned him."

"While you were still with Kevin? You had his baby?"

"No. I mean, it wasn't like that. Not that simple. I found out he was cheating on me and hiding away money from my accounts. I ended it. But then I found out I was pregnant, just like my father's magic had arranged. My stupid body. I was told, that because of the magic put into place before my birth, I had to see it through. I couldn't get rid of it. My life was tied to my ability to have a child. I got a second opinion. That's what all the professionals and experts said. I had to pay them extra to keep them from going to my father. Then I found this one guy. A wizard with a backroom. He helps muggle women to have discreet abortions. He said that the usual methods wouldn't work on me. I had to have something special. He sent me home with a tonic. He said, I'd have to clear my weekend. It needed two days to work. There might be some discomfort. Some pain. But it would do the job. It was concocted to work with magic, to dissolve agreements like mine. He warned me that it would push the fetus out, as undeveloped as it was. And that shouldn't be a problem, because I was barely six weeks along."

Harry could feel Draco shaking. He rubbed his back and kissed his temple to encourage him to keep talking.

"I waited a week. I cleared my schedule. Told my parents I'd be unreachable for a few days, and locked myself in my new flat. I took it."

His voice hitched. "At first I felt nothing. But within hours, I was on the floor in pain, trying not to call someone. I was determined to wait it out. But it got excruciating. Rather than call for help, I put a twenty-four hour jinx to my bed, where I couldn't reach the phone, a noise canceling charm, and threw my wand across the room. I would rather have died than told my father. I kept passing out. I lost all track of time. At one point, I was just screaming and begging for help. It felt like a meat grinder was wrenching my guts. It burned so bad. I changed my mind. It hurt so bad, I was ready to call my father and tell him everything. That went on for hours. I got really scared. Then when I couldn't stop vomiting blood, I just knew I was dying. That quack had poisoned me, given me the wrong thing. Blood and god knows what else, came out both ends. I was so horrified, I started praying. Can you believe that? I started praying to Merlin, to a muggle god, to anyone who would listen. I talked to my ancestors. I begged them to let me out of the contract. I pleaded with them to help me from their side. Then I began to hallucinate."

As he listened, he used the scent of Draco's hair as his touchstone to sanity and comfort. He let the strands caress his cheek. He felt this, while a part of him wandered around Draco's flat, saw him on the bed, and couldn't help him. His imagination filled in details that were probably far worse than Draco was supplying. But he listened.

"I began to think that my body was changing. That the thing inside of me, was growing. Really fucking fast. That was so terrifying, every time I looked down, I started seeing it. My stomach. That wasn't supposed to happen. I've been told by mediwizards my whole life, that I wouldn't have to suffer that. Even if I got pregnant, my body wouldn't do it the way that a female's would. A man's pelvis tilts back. A woman's pushes everything forward. They said I could even hide it if I wanted. No one ever had to know. But there I was, in pain, and this bloated stomach. It was so disgusting, I wanted to kill myself. I kept telling myself that it wasn't real. It was just a side effect of the tonic and all the pain. But it felt real. It moved inside of me. I cursed it. I damned it to hell. I couldn't see me getting my life back after this. My mind couldn't go back into shape. I went insane, watching it do that to me. My only relief was passing out. But each time I woke up, my stomach was bigger and bigger.

"The second day came, and the jinx wore off. But by then, I was too out of it, to think straight. I couldn't move and I was too scared of the demon inside of me. I know that's stupid now, but when you're put through that, that's all you can think. Evil is real, and you've done something to let it into your life. There's no way I can describe how my pain escalated. I thought it couldn't get any worse. But all this stuff came pouring out of me. I thought my guts had liquefied, and I didn't even know where the opening came from. Apparently, I had a new cavity between my testicles and my ass. When I felt that… When I saw all that bloody shit, I just started screaming. I screamed until the contractions stopped me. I didn't know what they were then, but I do now. They took my breath. They came as fast as the growth, and the next thing I knew, this fucking blob fell out of me. It wasn't very big, but it was big enough to scare the hell out of me."

He started shake again, and Harry pulled him tighter.

"I didn't touch it. I couldn't, and I didn't want to. My body was on fire inside. My skin had actually ripped. I didn't know that could happen. They told me, I'd be able to have it removed surgically or magically. No one said anything about growing a fucking opening. I lay there looking at it, trying to figure out what it was. It wasn't a baby. It didn't look like one. I couldn't tell. It didn't look normal. I blacked out again. When I woke up, I could move a little. It still hurt, but I drug myself to my wand. I used the strongest first aide spell to kill the pain that I knew. It helped some. I vanished all the mess. I poked at the thing. I thought it was a fucking tumor or something. That tonic did something. If it was a baby, that tonic ruined it. Killed it. I didn't see a face or hands or anything recognizable. I told myself that it was for the best, and I rolled it up in towels. For some reason, it wouldn't vanish. It was just dead tissue. Something that never really developed. So I put it in the garbage. I was gonna try to incinerate it later. I was so exhausted, I just wanted to rest.

"I didn't check that bin again until days later. I didn't have the courage to look at it. But I told myself to burn it. Get it over with. I don't know why I unwrapped it. I guess, I had to be sure. I'd gotten some rest and even though I was still pretty freaked about everything, I took a chance on looking at it in the light of day. It was even more disgusting, of course. I guess, a part of me had to confirm that there'd been nothing I could do. There'd been no saving something so messed up, so damaged. I prodded it. I touched it. I could see that, it was a membrane. It had veins. It was ugly. But it was thin. Thin as a flower petal. It tore beneath my finger. And I saw pink. I peeled it back and I saw…"

He shook and Harry squeezed tighter.

"He had a perfect little nose. His eyes were closed. He had hair like mine. His little fists were curled under his chin. He was so small, he fit in my palm. He was fully formed. Perfect toes. He never took a breath. I never let him. I never even found an umbilical chord. I lost my sanity giving birth to him. When I saw that there was nothing wrong with him, except for what I did to him, he gave it back to me. I couldn't believe that he was real. That he was that perfect, or would've been. I couldn't believe what I'd thrown away. I couldn't leave it like that. I couldn't accept that. So I cleaned him up. I bathed him, and he just got even more perfect. I wrapped him up. I thought about taking him to a hospital, that maybe a mediwizard could save him. But it was too late and I knew it. So I put him in my bed and we lay there. I told him I was sorry, and I tried to feel his spirit in the room. I tried to tell him what a shitty father I'd be and that this was for the best.

"When I couldn't cry anymore, I performed a ritual. The kind done when a child dies. I sent him off with love. I cremated his body with white lotus flames, like the Chinese sorcerers. I tried to find peace with what I'd done. I couldn't. I started waking up to crying, to the sound of a newborn. It was hungry and it screamed, and I knew it was him. There was no getting away from it. I missed my classes, I couldn't focus. I tried self-medicating. I tried potions. I tried magic. Nothing quieted him. Nothing soothed him. Inside of two weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I heard him as plain as anyone speaking to me. I decided to kill myself. There's a famous bridge near the campus. The Kuonen. Famous, because of the annual suicides. It was a sure bet. Only, I took off walking. But by the time I got to the bridge, I'd cleared my mind of all but the screaming. I understood that I didn't have to go through this alone. I couldn't leave this world without trying to make up for what I did. It doesn't make sense now, but it did back then. I went to Kevin's class. I called him out. I leapt on him in front of his students. I drove my wand through his guts. I never regretted it.

"They pulled me off and I woke up in a psych ward the next day. I stayed there for a year. My body returned to normal. I told those doctors that I heard constant screaming. The medication they gave me was so strong, I slept most of the time. When they released me, I went looking for magic that could help me. I discovered illegal birth control. I didn't know the implant would stop me from hearing his cries, but when I solved the problem of never being able to get pregnant again, the crying stopped on its own. I solved two problems with one device. When I woke up today, I knew that it had been removed from my body, because I could hear him crying again. I hadn't heard him in five years. I hear him now. And if you could, you'd make it stop. Any way you could. But this isn't your hell and you don't hear his suffering."

"Draco, oh my god."

"So if you care about me like you say you do, you'll help me. You see why I have to put it back in. Make him stop crying. I can't help what I did. I can't take it back. All I want to do, is make it like it never happened. And since that's impossible, I have to live with the guilt or die with him."

Harry didn't know what to say. It wasn't safe to say anything.

"I'm worse than a pedophile."

"No, you're not."

"I murdered my child."

"You thought your were destroying some cells before they turned into a child. That's very different."

"It wasn't supposed to be a real baby."

"Don't."

"It wasn't supposed to be real. That son-of-bitch didn't deserve a real baby, and neither did I."

"You've blamed yourself enough. Five years is enough. Stop."

"I'll stop when the crying stops. You say you love me, Harry. You say you want me. If your magic can make him stop crying, I'll be your husband. If you still want me, monster that I am, I'll be anything you want. I'd be your fucking servant. Just make him stop. I can't listen to my child suffer and not do anything about it, a minute longer. Make the crying stop."

He let Draco pour the rest of his grief on him. His mind reeled from what he'd just heard. His stomach knotted. He wasn't coming up with any answers. He was too busy mourning an infant he'd never meet, stricken by haunting cries he'd never heard, and struggling to leave that horrible birth scene. No wonder Draco was adamant about not having kids. He hadn't survived his first one. A part of him was still in that flat, in that room, cradling that dead child. This wasn't going to be fixed with magic. This might never be fixed at all. He wanted to make promises and assure Draco that it was all going to be okay. But he couldn't. He couldn't.

It took a while, but Draco's tremors subsided and he slumped against Harry, in no hurry to leave the shelter he'd found there.  
Harry's words were cautious. "I can't believe you've lived with this, by yourself, for so long. You've really been hard on yourself. You have to let me share this secret with someone."

He felt Draco tense.

"The worst part is over. Yes, I'm upset, but I'm upset that you've had to deal with this alone. You're smarter than I am. Smart enough to know that you had no idea how to do anything any differently. You were traumatized and you saw nothing you recognized as life. We're not leaving this room until I get you to swear you'll stop blaming yourself. That's all behind you now. You don't have to keep paying for your mistakes over and over again. You've suffered 've given it to me and it's no longer your burden alone. Now we tell someone who might have the power to help you."

"Who can possibly help me?"

"Maybe Severus, my mother's friend. He saw the device to begin with. He revived you. I have a feeling he's capable of a lot of things. Just because we don't have the answers, doesn't mean we're not in the presence of someone who can get that crying out of your ears. Even if he has to use a spell. I think it's just guilt. Either way, please give me your permission for me to tell him. You think you can't be happy again, but you can. When you let yourself out of that room and your past. You're still locked in there with it. That's why you hear the crying. But I'm waiting for you to come out and meet the rest of your life. Your life isn't one incident, one room and a mistake made one horrible night. You have to let that go. I don't think it can be fixed. But that's the point. We deserve to be happy, even when the un-fixable happens. Even when we fail. We still deserve love.

"Those are just judgments and they make everything worse. Five years is enough. Throw it away. Don't make that pain precious. Don't make it your big deal forever. Imagine being stuck on the same mistake, while everyone else gets to learn from theirs and move on freely. That's what you've done. You're on a loop. You keep replaying everything you think you did wrong. That's where the crying is coming from. He's not suffering, you're suffering. He's gone. I have to find a way to pull you out of that room and back into the sunlight. You think you can't be happy, but you've never had someone living only to make you happy, to see that nothing upsets you. I'm here now, and that's my job. You'll see.

"I feel like my whole life was created to make sure I'm right here to tell you this. To make sure you come out of this. I can't undo what you've gone through. I guess I'm not supposed to. It must've taught you so much. That baby must've been the most valuable experience of your life. Just because he didn't make it, doesn't mean it was all for nothing. You can't grieve for something this long, this deeply, without knowing how much love is inside of you. And if you have love, you have everything. If you have a little, you have it all. I can't change the past for you, but when this is over, when you let go, we'll be so happy, it'll be like it never happened. The knowledge will be there, but the pain won't."

Draco pulled away and looked at him. "You can't promise something like that. You don't hear him."

"I hear you. I don't need to hear him to believe that you deserve peace from your torment. I'm not promising anything. I'm making sure of it. When I want something, it has a way of working out. That's why I haven't given up on you. I want to see you fully healed from this. So my magic isn't going to give up until I do. It's already working on it. No promises have to be made. No hoping or doubting. You've confided in me, you're no longer locked in my bathroom. We've even kissed. That's not promises, that's progress. Steady progress. Now take the next step. Let me tell Severus."


	14. Course-Correction

Harry ended, "He's haunted by a mistake."

Severus was careful to keep all judgment from his face. Harry had found him I their library, but the huge black book he held, was his own. This reminded him that Severus could've already left. He was the only one with the power to do so. He stayed behind for a reason. He'd promised to talk to Harry in private, before everything went south. Harry was pretty sure that big book had something to do with brushing up on research. Something to do with him and Draco.

He started his interruption of the wizard by saying, "Thank you for staying. I know this isn't over."

"I told your mother I'd see what could be done about the dragon."

This transitioned the subject into Draco. Harry told him everything.

At 1:00 AM, they had the small library to themselves. Some guests had retired, but the lights of the house were still on. Most everyone had eaten dinner and were left to sprawl around the place, drinking their fill of wine and stronger tonics. There was too much going on to sleep. The appearance of the boys, descending through the ceiling, unnerved them all enough to connect their introduction to Draco, through documentaries, with his dragon flying overhead. Even those who had no patience for being detained from their lives and the comfort of their own homes, hunkered down with alcohol, a book, or simple conversation, to wait and see what the second night would bring. Gossip had become stale in the wake of facts that were so much more visual and exciting. Whatever was happening, the display of family magic, was doing so on an unprecedented scale. It was not a thing to be missed or to bitch about.

When Harry finished explaining all that he could to Severus, he told him, "Forget the dragon. Make that baby stop crying for him. He's not crazy. His magic goes where his heart goes, and he's still in that room trying to make up for taking that tonic. I think, if that goes away, the dragon will go away."

Severus regarded his book. He closed it. "I will have to speak with him. I didn't want to tell you in front of your parents or his, but your marriage contract itemizes the very ways in which your magic interprets betrayal to you. To it, he's keeping so many important things from his husband. His dishonesty was first on the list. The contract is still intact because the sanctity of your marriage does not feel threatened. However, these are recorded as warnings, for you to correct. No doubt, the dragon is Draco's warning against betrayal to his investments, equally.

"He's committed a series of secret acts that are in direct conflict with, not only your wishes, but with magical agreements put in place by his parents. Not being a virgin, is one of them. It's an obsolete stipulation as far as the world is concerned but still quite purposeful to families who use breeding to amass magic. Second, having a child out of wedlock, and therefore out of his father's control. And third, taking deliberate measures to prevent the very magic that gives him the ability to birth children. He has so many penalties against him, shall we say, regarding promises that were made so that he could be their child, that your magic is attempting to deactivate them. The dragon rose up in defense, no doubt."

Who was this man? Who sent him?

No matter what he'd told Draco, hope that something could be done, rose up with Severus's grasp on the situation. Yeah, Harry knew he'd spoken big, fearless words, trying to comfort Draco. And he believed them, but at the moment, he was so relieved that someone seemed to know what was going on here, that he allowed himself a moment of weightless humility and gratefulness.

"Thank you so much."

"I haven't done anything to help Draco yet."

"You're not judging him. That helps. That's what he needs more than anything right now."

Severus's sigh was reticent. "I've been fortunate enough to learn from those who judged me, that a decision comes to everyone, that will not be looked upon as appropriate. No one gets out of it. I do not use their trials to make myself feel superior."

Harry accepted this heavy assessment. This wizard must've had his reasons for it. If it helped Draco, then all right, whatever.

"Will you talk to him?"

"I must talk to him."

When they got to the bedroom, Harry hung back. "You go ahead. I'll give you some privacy. Call me in when you're done."

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter. Enough secrets have been kept from you already. I want you to hear every word that transpires."

He held the door open and Harry entered first. Draco was curled with a pillow wrapped around his head. When he saw them, he sat up. Harry made the proper introductions.

He told Draco, "He knows everything and he doesn't care. He just wants to help you."

Draco's glare said prove it.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are suffering from auditory hallucinations, induced by trauma and prolonged by grief. Your magic amplifies them. If you let me, I would like to endeavor to solve this problem for you. It is not within my power to raise the dead, so I do not concern myself with regrets of that nature. I shall try to respect your feelings, but my work would focus on severing the magical connections that tie you to the events surrounding your loss."

Draco looked uncertain.

"I know that the device I took from you, represented your much needed security for control over your life. It represented your authority. It allowed you to govern many chaotic forces that were put into place before your birth. I apologize for the medical invasion to your body, but it was done under emergency duress, when we did not know the advantage of leaving it alone. If we can solve the issue of the child you're able to hear, I'm certain that I can arrange safer methods to help you prevent any future, unwanted conceptions. I've helped many witches and wizards resolve this private dilemma. In my line of work, it is fundamental to the healing arts, and not a question of right or wrong."

Draco looked at Harry, mouth open.

"I told you," Harry said. "He's super cool."

Draco turned back. "How do we make it stop?"

"Have you told Harry everything? All your secrets? He has none from you."

Nods.

Severus withdrew his wand and used it to project a copy of the marriage contract. It unfurled so fast and so large into the room, both Draco and Harry jumped. It was an illumination recording, made entirely of light.

"Yes, the list of breeches against you, on Harry's side, have disappeared. They're still there, but no longer valid. Anyone with the ability to read this document, will have to look for them elsewhere. Harry's magic considers the matter rectified. But here, your own magic cites your parents grievances against you. They themselves made promises to energetic spirits that were once called gods, in order to get the child they wanted. They promised you'd be raised a certain way and that you would do certain things to honor the magic granted to you. Remaining pure of body until suitably married, was one of them. Bearing the child gifted to your body, was another. Those pagan deities, some of whom you are descended from, kept their promise. But you have not kept yours. I think we should start here and strive to appease them."

Draco looked lost. "How do we do that?"

"Ritual. A ceremony. We must ask your parents to stand in and recreate their connection with the beings who awarded them with a child to begin with. They used your independence as a sacrifice, as payment. You've cooperated as best you can, but you've outgrown the agreement. It's only fitting that you re-negotiate the terms, especially now that you know you can't live up to your family's expectations."

Harry didn't like the uneasiness he saw in Draco, who fidgeted with his sheets. He scratched at his head and kicked restlessly at the covers. He took on a shade of illness when he asked, "There's no way it could ever be that easy. You make it sound like a recipe. It's not. My parents are scared of those people and that level of magic. They don't want to have to face them again, making deals with them again. That's why I've tried to be everything they needed me to be. To keep them from bowing and scraping to forces that frighten them. All they wanted was a child. They shouldn't have to owe anything either, for that. I don't like seeing them helpless and afraid."

He rubbed his neck absently, and Harry wanted to do that for him.

Severus folded the contract and absorbed it back into his wand. "Times have changed. I don't know what you've witnessed, but they need not prostrate themselves in a manner that makes them subordinate to Universal power. Their so-called gods and ancestors, keepers of old magic, are valid only in people and places that honor the old traditions. A modern wizard can achieve the same effects if he knows the most rudimentary physics."

He sat down on the bed. "All your parents have to do, is be willing to present themselves. I will preside over the ceremony. Any ancients who have anything to do with you, will be in attendance. You will not see them, but you will feel their effects. You see, now that you are an adult and you have a voice, you will be allowed to use it. In fact, everything that takes place, stands on the clarity you give yourself. I will give you the tools to navigate this ceremony, and therefore your life, but it's up to you to use them. Your parents need only be present so that their arrangements for you can be augmented according to your preference."

"I don't understand any of that, or how it's possible."

"At this point, you're not supposed to. Magic is a thing without form. The ceremony is about giving form to things that cannot be seen, but are every bit as valid. What your parents call the old gods, what they believe to be the source of their magic, I merely side with my muggle friends and call energy. If we fear it and assign it power, it will have a god-like reign over our lives. If we see it as unharnessed lightning, we may use it as electricity to heat and light our homes. The ceremony is a way of harnessing all the magic around you, especially as it relates to your thoughts and feelings. We are negotiating on your behalf, so we need to work with your personal believes. Your private convictions. Your gods. And they are ever changing. Your parents will be bystanders. You must let that be enough for now."

Harry kept score between Draco's reactions and Severus's shifting explanations. He waited to see if Draco understood anything any better, because he thought that he himself did. But when it came down to it, how the hell would any of them know what this wizard was talking about, until it actually went down?

"You're making my head hurt."

"That's not me. That's the decision awaiting you. Decide that you are going to stand with your family, new and old, and that you are going to free yourself from this torment, no matter what, and your headache will go away."

"But I don't know how to do all of that."

"The headache isn't asking you how. There is no 'how.' There's only your decision. Trust that, and the energy of your magic has already provided the means, whether you are able to see them at this time or not."

"Nothing's that easy."

"That attitude is precisely why you hear the sound of your most regrettable mistake, night and day. You can change it. A strong belief is nothing more than an idea, re-thought, over and over again. The ceremony will neutralize old accusations and plant new thoughts. Your feelings regarding your actions, will have new places to go and new stories to tell. I will guide your spirit out of that room, where you refuse to abandon your child. I will show you that even though you think you've harmed it, you have not. I will prove it."

Draco brought his legs up. He rocked into himself, looking disgusted. "No matter what you do, my actions were unforgivable."

Severus touched his leg."Would you punish a novice for his first mistakes? Would you scold a toddler for falling down upon its first steps? You had a very practical lesson in love. You didn't know how to. You weren't ready. Your mistake wasn't for nothing. Grief has taught you to love more deeply than if that infant had lived. You now care more for it than you ever could before. The value of that is beyond measure."

"But that still leaves me without a child. I murdered something important. No matter what you say, it doesn't erase my actions."

"Draco, if you erase those actions, you lose all that you've gained."

"It doesn't bring him back."

"What if it brings him back at a better time? That child kept you from making a grave mistake. It course-corrected your life and gave you perspective. You would've gone back to that teacher, out of your need to pretend that everything had gone back to normal. That he was changed and would honor you. Your relationship with that wizard, was your most prized rebellion against your father's control. It represented your happiness, your way, and you would've lied to yourself to keep that from disintegrating. But trauma prevented that.

"You were so busy making up for what you'd done to your child, that you stayed on a path that took you right to Harry's doorstep. That child came to you and did exactly what it was meant to do. Get you to a place where you wanted nothing more than to love it. It took loss to do that, but now you know that you were simply too hard on yourself and need not ever create such horrific tactics to sober you into loving what comes from your body, or indeed, the body itself."

He silenced Draco into reflection. Glassy blue eyes stared at the covers and played with his fingers. If Draco realized he was holding the implant and rolling it from one hand to the other, he made no sign of it. His pajama top hung open, and Harry saw the mark he made when he'd thrown it. That pebble-sized bruise was the only blemish in a sea of cream on Draco's chest. Shame engulfed Harry and he looked away.

"Now," Severus stood, "If you'll excuse me, I must prepare. I must retrieve my assistant. I have a theory that your dragon is a portal to your magic. Perhaps the center of it. I want to test it. You both remember being caught in its flames and you were transported to the entertainment room, when you could've been transported anywhere. The concentration of loved ones, must factor in. If all those wizards and witches in one room, constitutes unharnessed magic, then the room acted as the other end of a transitional portal. All of the apparation points available in this home, are being drained by the core vortex of Draco's magic. The portal is not a physical place. It's wherever the most magic is concentrated. And right now, it's concentrated in your family connections. That's good, we can use that to stabilize a way in and a way out. But everyone has to be informed."

He turned at the door. "Harry, if you see your mother before I do, tell her I'll need the use of the room in another hour."

Harry nodded. In the next second, he and Draco were alone again. He reached out and stopped the fingers fidgeting with the implant. He opened Draco's hand and took it from him. Draco let it go easily, without a fight or a word. They held each other's stare, and Harry was the first to cover the distance with a kiss.

This time, Draco's mouth opened to him, and a genuine willingness to give Harry what he wanted, came out. Aside from gratefulness and hope, it was a real marital kiss. Their first, as a real couple.

* * *

Note: The quote: A strong belief is nothing more than an idea, re-thought, over and over again, is paraphrased from Seth/Jane Roberts.


	15. The Elan Show

Severus found Lily consoling Petunia in the sitting room. Her sister clutched a wad of tissue and dabbed her eyes.

"He's worried out of his mind, I just know it. I find it difficult to believe that out of all this magic, we can't send one owl to my Vernon."

"Tuny, even if we could, you know he'd never receive an owl from us."

"His wife and his son have never been missing for two days! If he saw one, he'd stop and take notice."

"As long as that dragon is out there, nothings going in or out. Especially magic. Sweetie, I promise, we'll get you home soon."

Petunia looked insulted. "I didn't say I wanted to leave, just that I wanted to send word to my husband so that he doesn't worry himself sick. He'll have the police involved by now."

"Oh, dear."

"Yes, well that's what I'm saying."

She noticed Severus blocking the doorway.

"Might I have a word?"

Petunia scowled at the interruption, but then recognized the wizard and sat up straight, sputtering. "No!"

Severus inclined his head.

"Severus Snape!" Petunia stood, jaw dropping. "I haven't seen you since you and Lily used to run off and leave me stuck playing barbies and pogo sticks all by myself. You stole my sister's affection and now there you stand looking smarter than all the blokes she turned down."

Lily could tell that his smile hid behind apprehension. He and Petunia hadn't always been nice to one another. This mature Tuny held promise, but his intense stare said the young one had to be in there somewhere. Lily knew for a fact that her sister may not have magic, but she had fangs, and Severus had been the only boy to inspire provocation in an otherwise docile Tuny. It only occurred to her now that her sister might've had a crush before she was old enough to realize it herself.

Lily changed the subject. "Does this need to be private?" She hated to hurt Petunia's feelings, but if this was about Draco and Harry, she was pretty sure she'd be forgiven.

"Not at all. I am ready to bring in my assistant now. I require the ring and the formation of those that were present when I arrived. That formula appears to have worked, we need not change it."

"Oh, okay. Um, I have to find everyone. Same room? Meet us there in ten minutes."

"Can I come?" Petunia asked. Lily looked inquisitive at Severus.

"I mean, I know I don't have magic, but I'm curious. I'll sit in a corner and be quiet, I promise."

Severus hesitated, but made up for it with the sincerest of tone. "That shouldn't be a problem. You've been around magic all your life. As long as you are accepting of what you see, you may indeed join your sister."

Tissue forgotten, she smiled and watched Severus turn and go. "Mother of Pearl, no one said he was going to be gorgeous!"

Lily giggled. "You think so? That wasn't your opinion back in the day."

"Back in the day, he was anorexic and mean to me. Now he looks like a bloody superhero in that cape. He's put on three stones, learned some manners, and washed that beautiful hair. My Severus policy has just changed."

Lily leaned in close to her. "He smells good, too."

"I knew it!"

"That's a cloak, by the way. He hasn't taken it off since he got here. That bothers me. He's not comfortable."

"Was he ever comfortable? It suits him so well, though. Sexy."

"Um, weren't you inconsolable over Vernon a minute a go?"

"Vernon, who? My prospects for this evening just got better." She shrugged.

"Tuny!"

"Of course, I'm torn up about my husband. But as long as I'm stuck here, I might as well make the best of it." She gave Lily a conspiring look and pulled her along to find the others.

Minutes later, the group recreated the circle that allowed Severus to come through. But instead of Lily wearing the ring, Severus held it to his chest and lifted his head as if smelling a long-stemmed rose. His inhalation triggered the ring to glow. It dimmed upon exhalation, and they were all asked to continue directing their intent to send their magic into the ring.

His pose struck Lily as peculiar, but she had no idea what she must've looked like when she was wearing the ring. She didn't dare criticize the wizard helping her son. Severus, apparently, didn't have to go through a whole monologue to reach out to his friend. Gusts of ethereal winds blew their hair back and forced their eyes closed. When they opened them, two figures stood in the center.

The man he'd referred to as his assistant, made them all do a double-take. He was two inches shorter than Severus, slender as a stick, and adorned in a black, Indian sherwani. He looked out at them from a thin, oval face with mild features. He had a natural androgyny about him, but a strong brow that said he was decidedly male. His entire package was framed by fine, coppery red hair that came to his waist. He wore it in a ponytail.

Severus took his hand and presented him to Lily. "My dear Lily. Elan Strieber. Elan, this is Harry's mother."

Lily kept her most polite smile pasted on. She shook his hand.

"Oh, my!" Elan gushed. "I didn't think I'd ever get to meet you." You're like royalty to me. Sev has so little family. When I get to meet someone from his past, ex-girlfriend or not, I'm just thrilled to have made it to this level of intimacy. This is a milestone. I'm so happy to meet you."

Behind them, Sirius had a coughing fit. Remus and James could not pick their jaws up off the floor.

Lily was too shocked to correct him. Her eyes did, however, turn to Severus for further elaboration.

"My apologies. Elan has misunderstood. Lily and I were simply friends." He turned. "Ah, this is Harry's father. They were betrothed as children."

"Are you serious? How'd that work out?"

James stepped forward. "Perfectly fine." He shook the hand offered to him, but Elan held on.

He looked James up and down. "Well, maybe I get my facts mixed up from time to time, but I know when love has touched two people. It's a gift as well as a curse. If I speak too much, do overlook my excessive need to please. I don't know if Sev has told you, but that's my specialty. I bring people together. Those of us who were not as fortunate to have someone assigned to love them, turn to me for divinations of a romantic nature. When I'm not healing broken hearts, I'm helping Sev. I'm sure you two must have a fairy tale marriage. Forgive me if I've tuned in on past frequencies that you've laid to rest."

"Excuse me?"

"Elan is relatively new to our wizarding world," Severus stepped in. "You must forgive his innocent assessment. He is accustomed to networking among muggles, who find his readings entertaining." He tuned to Elan. "Since we're here on business, I think it would be prudent to leave the Potters out of your charming social etiquette."

Elan put his hand to his chest. "I'm sorry, did I say something a little too forward? I thought we were all magical adults and could handle a little honesty, given that Harry is the guest of honor. As much as you've told me about him and Lily, how can I not tune in on all those feelings surrounding him? And how dare you refer to these nice people as business? These are the people you grew up with. They may not be perfect, but their hearts are in the right place."

James looked disconcerted. "What feelings about Harry?"

Severus put himself between Elan and James. "Let's not get distracted. We were about to discuss the issue of helping Draco and Harry. I have arrived at a plan."

Elan leaned around Severus to talk to James. "You must know that Severus cares very deeply for Harry. It took years to recover from letting him go."

"What?" James looked at Severus, then at Lily, who shook her head frantically.

From the sofa, every tendon on Petunia's neck stood taut. She kept her mouth tight, but her eyeballs gaped from their sockets.

"You have nothing to feel threatened by. Not only does Severus agree that you've made a great father, but I can read it in your energy."

"Damn right, I have."

"Where is this young man? When I was told I would be meeting him, I did a special meditation of gratitude that he and Severus could have this reunion. You are a great man to allow it."

"I don't like what you're implying."

Elan put his hand on Severus's arm. "You said that he knows."

Severus lowered his voice. "I said that he's aware of more than he realizes, can we please not discuss this?"

He slung an arm around Elan, and faced Lily. "Forgive him. My assistant chatters incessantly as a means to calm his nerves. He will figure out that he need not be so anxious around you all."

"Severus Snape! If you introduce me as your assistant one more time, me and that dragon are going to have a game of fetch with this ring." He waved his hand, flashing an impressively crafted band of onyx and ruby gems.

Sirius and Remus were pulled forward by intrigue. James took a step back. Harry's friends held stock still. Hermione in particular. He was too perfect. Too svelte, too straight, like a Japanese anime character. His hair was positively orange with shining gloss. He looked more like an endangered species than a human being. Exotic, and prettier than anyone in the room.

Severus could not hide his slip of patience. "This is a business call, Elan. Our personal life is of no concern to anyone here. We need not advertise our status."

"You need not advertise it. I'm going to shout it from the roof. It took me five freaking years to get this ring on my finger. The world is gonna know about it. And don't think we're going to have a quiet, private ceremony. If I have to dig your relatives out of their graves, I'm rubbing this in their faces. I am Mr. Severus Snape and you are Mr. Elan Strieber. No apologies. Now let's get these boys some help."

He clapped his hands together and looked around the room with eagerness. "Is this where the ceremony will take place?"

"What ceremony?" Lily asked. She had not yet been informed.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I've spoken with the boys and they are in agreement with a ritual that I would like to perform before sunrise. Elan and I have been able to correspond on charmed parchment, and have designed schematics to get everyone involved. Most will be bystanders, but all the magic inside this house will be focused on a ritual for Draco."

She was struck more by his ability to communicate with Elan through paper, than the idea of a ceremony. It made sense now, why he was the only one who could use the ring to get in or out. And why he could use it to bring in only one other person. She recalled what he looked like, standing there holding it, inhaling it like a rose. He was the master of the ring. She'd been the center of his affection when he'd transformed it. Now Elan held that position. And while the door to Severus's heart was still accessible to her, the ring recognized this younger man by his side, as his rightful companion. It could only let someone he deeply loved, through.

She told herself that she was happy to have been replaced. Elan had the slender build of an adolescent dancer. He must've been ten years younger than Severus, and looked pleased as pride itself to have those large hands affixed to his narrow waist. In spite of his discretion, she could tell that Severus played some role for him that fed into his most indulgent world views. A magical sugar-daddy perhaps. A wizard who could possibly do anything. It was obvious what role he played for Severus. Elan got his hands on a powerful man and Severus got the closest thing to his obsession, that he could make real.

She was happy for him, if also feeling a lot of other unlabeled emotions as well.

"A ceremony," she made sure she was listening. She glanced at Petunia, who looked like she'd swallowed her tongue.

"Prepare your guests. I will speak with key individuals when I assign the appropriate functions. There are certain logistics I have to work out, but I should have an executable agenda in another hour at the most."

"Okay…"

"When you have done so, meet me in the library. You, James, and the Malfoys, for a private discussion. It cannot take place until Draco speaks with his father. His mother, I believe, has suspected for a while."

"Suspected what?"

"The sooner he speaks with his father, the sooner I can release that information. I'm off to perform a few tests. Do not be alarmed if the dragon becomes agitated."

With Elan draped on his arm, he spun the two of them around. Elan waved good-bye as he walked out with Severus.

Sirius's laughter hit her ears like a body-sized bell that someone draped over her head and gonged with everything they had. She put her hands to her head when she really meant to cover her ears.

Just wait till their out of earshot, she prayed.

"What! The fuck! Was that!"

Petunia startled at Sirius's outburst.

Lily's shush, was the shush to end all shushes. "Dammit! I will not have you hurt his feelings."

James and Remus had already given in to laughter, and could not be silenced. Harry's friends didn't know what was so funny, and waited out their bent spasms. Petunia looked crushed.

"Did you see that? Who bloody knew?"

Remus's cheeks held a healthy glow as he grinned. "Well I could've told you that Severus likes pretty things."

"Yeah, pretty red-headed things," Sirius pointed out. "We all like pretty things. Don't tell me I'm the only one who sees it."

James took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. "I'm laughing at the dress and ponytail, what're you guys laughing at?"

"That's not a dress. That's traditional British-Indian attire. His was quite formal," Remus supplied. "And beautiful, I might add."

"Might you?" James mocked him.

"I'm laughing at his little henpecked arrangement. He's got a rent boy that looks exactly like Lily. You dotes! Who gives two flips about his dress?"

James blinked. "Oh my god. You're right. I see it."

"So that's why he struck me as familiar." Remus reflected. "That's extraordinary. What are the odds? The hair is obvious, but the bone structure. Those pristine lips. And such elegance, the way he put himself forward. His mannerisms." He shrugged. "I'll be damned. He went out and found himself the male version of Lily. That's astonishing."

Sirius held his sides and collapsed against James, who wasn't laughing anymore.

"Bless you, Snivelous, you finally got her. James, old man, your competition has left the building."

"With quite a looker on his arms, I must say."

Lily barked at them. "You two, stop it! Grow up. Don't you dare make fun of the people who are trying to help Harry and Draco. I get it, you need some comedy relief. Take it somewhere else, this is too serious. So Severus has a boyfriend. So he has a type. I've always had a thing for men with jet black hair, it didn't stop me from marrying James. Get over yourselves."

Her scolding had the opposite effect of silencing them. Sirius's laughter grew louder. She looked confused until he gasped, "Sev has black hair. Maybe that's why he couldn't let go. I mean, after all, apparently he thinks he's left his kid for James to raise. You two must've had quite an affair. Did anyone else hear that but me?"

"Yeah, well at least I didn't leave my boyfriend so knocked up, he had to give it away so I wouldn't find out." She looked at Remus. "Sorry, Remus. But he deserved it."

"Hey!" Sirius pointed. "That's off limits. I was making fun, you're just being mean."

"I can't tell the difference," she said haughtily. "Come, Tuny. Help me clear everyone out and straighten things in there"

Petunia cautiously moved from the sofa to her side. She took her sister's hand. A thing mostly abandoned to childhood, only she knew that Petunia was stressed, and it made them feel they had each other's back. She was willing to let Sirius's comment go. She would've been outraged, if she didn't know that the only reason he said that about her and Severus, was that he didn't believe a word of it.

James wasn't laughing anymore. She gave him her evil eye. "Don't you dare."

He nodded, more to himself, and slapped Sirius's back. "Okay, that's enough. You're upsetting her."

Sirius tried to reel it in, but he kept erupting. "I'm not going to be able to keep a straight face."

"Then you won't be in attendance," Lily informed him.

He looked stricken, holding out his arms. "He's my godson."

"And I'm his real mother. Promise me, no more cracks about Severus and his partner. I mean it."

"Geeze," Sirius groaned. "But it's such a goldmine,"

Lily turned her back to them and left, dragging Petunia with her.

Harry's friends remained in position. Their eyes darted left to right, to see which of them would break formation and follow her. Hermione took the lead. She wanted to see this ceremony. "We can help her clear the room."

On top of the covers, Harry listened to Draco breathing beside him. Draco listened to the sound of his baby's cries.

"He's hungry," he told Harry. "And I'm not feeding him."

They'd lain there so long, Harry suspected that he wasn't entirely awake.

"That's bad parenting."

He wasn't about to support Draco's wry joke. The bitterness was real, evidenced by a tear that escaped Draco's closed eyes.

Someone knocked. While Harry was still thinking of whether or not to let them come in, Lucius Malfoy stuck his head inside the door. "I would like a word with my son. In private."

Harry balked. "He's only just started to relax. Can it wait?"

Lucius suppressed his annoyance. "That wizard. He tells us that we should prepare for some sort of ceremony. But before it can happen, Draco has to tell me something. Something quite personal. He wouldn't say. He intends to start the proceedings within the next two hours. So no, it can't wait, Mr. Potter. I have spent two days on the sidelines, watching you take matters into your own hands and witnessing my son fall apart. You have resolved matters with him that I will never know. Congratulations, you're married. The least you can do, is give me ten minutes to catch up with him. Or does your omniscient magic stand in the way of that permission?"

Draco slowly opened his eyes. He told Harry, "It's okay. I'll speak to him. I might as well get it over with."

Harry got off the bed reluctantly. "I'll be right outside the door."

He brushed by Lucius. "Thanks, Dad."

That was not meant to express sentiment, and Lucius swelled with indignation. "If I ever bestow to you the privilege of calling me that, I'll let you know."

For Draco's sake, Harry didn't respond.

When they were alone together, Lucius turned a weary face to his son.

"What is this ceremony nonsense?"

Draco tried to choose the best words possible, out of all the things he couldn't say.

"Can you just go along with it? For me? Then it'll be over. All of your sacrifices for me, your plans, you'll be able to let them go."

"Why would I do that?" He stepped closer to the bed. "That doesn't sound appealing. And you speak as if you trust this wizard to be as reliable as he is strange."

"He's helping me. He's the only one who is, besides Harry."

"That doesn't mean he knows what's best for you. Why do you trust him? I thought you changed your mind about this boy, once you saw how viciously he tricked you."

"Harry didn't trick me. I tricked myself."

Lucius looked heavenward and expelled his frustration in a tight breath. He pulled up the nearest chair and planted it by Draco's bed. "Where is this coming from? What did they do to you?"

He braced himself for the yelling and the shame. "That device was birth control."

His voice trembled, but he said it, deliberately avoiding his father's face. "I've already had one kid. I don't want to have another one. That's what I'm supposed to tell you. The ceremony will get me out of the contract."

For the next ten minutes, Lucius never heard another word. Then, bits and pieces of Draco's voice broke off in selective comprehension.

Lucius's eyes locked on Draco's moving lips, studied the likeness to himself for the millionth time, and scanned the floral coverlet in front of him, for a place to punch. The admission sapped the last of his strength. He didn't have enough to hit anything, and he wanted to hit Draco. To slap some sense into him. But he reeled and spasms concentrated around his heart. He kept his hands in his lap, refusing to give credence to the stereotypical "too much to bear" heart attack. If he died from failing Draco, then no one would know it until he was quite gone. He'd give himself that.

When he didn't respond, Draco thought that it was shock. He wasn't in shock, he was coming to a decision.

"You did not have a child. That doesn't count. What happened to you, was the result of magic pulled in so many directions, that it couldn't support life. You were left with something that no one was meant to go through. No birth occurs that way. It was not valid, merely tragic. As far as I'm concerned, if you'd had a child, I would be holding my grandson right now. You had a dark experience and you've learned your lesson. We've all moved on."

Draco's head turned on the pillow. "You knew?"

"We need not discuss these things. Especially since we can't change them. I didn't confront you for a reason. You suffered enough. If I could've spared you that experience, I would've."

"All this time? You knew."

Lucius pulled the confession from it's dark, slimy hiding place. "You're all we have. We've watched you very closely at school. We knew you were seeing that man. We paid him to stay away from you. It didn't work."

"Oh my god. I've been so scared of telling you. You've known all along. You lied to Harry. I thought you did it, because I gave you no choice. I lied to you. But you knew I'd been with a man, and you still told him that I hadn't. You knew everything all along. No wonder his magic went crazy. I'm lucky he still wants me. I'm lucky he saw through me."

"He's lucky to have you. Don't you dare lower your head in shame. You are a product of our best intentions, our greatest hopes, and our strongest magic. You are nothing but good and perfect, right down to your human flaws. If I've been hard on you, I've only ever encouraged your best qualities. You can't go out into the world thinking that you're anything less than strong and capable, and fundamentally correct in your being. Those savages would eat you alive. So yes, I lied. But you lost nothing when you gave that scum teacher what he did not deserve. Your quality did not diminish in any way, and that is why I stood across from the Potters and told them what I did. What I believed. No touch could ever taint you in my eyes. And absolutely no child resulted from your time at school. A horrific incident, yes. But one that left you free to think about how you would do things differently. It was a near miss. Nothing more. There was no point in making you pay for your mistake. You've paid in full."

Draco tried to clear his mind of all the secrets. He couldn't fathom how deep it all went. "But to let me think I'd gotten away with all that. To say nothing… You knew everything." The humiliation was too much.

"Not every detail. We had our suspicions early on. Your mother dealt with it by dismissing it. I put magic into place to make it more difficult for you. Each holiday visit, I asked you to finish the candied dates, to keep from hurting your mother's feelings. It's the only dish she knows how to prepare. They were laced with chastity charms. We didn't know what birth control would do to you, especially since we'd asked specifically for a child from you. We couldn't take chances with that. So we were tense throughout your relationship with this Kevin fellow. But your medical reports kept coming back fine. Your doctors deemed you still intact as far as sexual engagement went, so we were pleased that our charms were working. We were pleased that you abstained, whether it was our doing or yours."

Draco looked at his father. "I paid every mediwizard to say nothing."

"I know that now. When the conservatory called and said you'd been admitted, that you were under investigation for attacking that man, we hired our own detectives. They were talking about sending you away for life. We needed to know what happened. Our people scanned your flat, even after it was taped off. They reported traces of magic. Traces of blood. They were able to piece together a story that your mother and I found too unbearable to speak."

His father's words ripped his chest open.

"We didn't believe them, until they displayed the last spells of your wand. Incineration and cleansing. Through the holograph of your wand's magic, we saw the face of our grandchild. We saw you sleeping there, with him wrapped next to you. We saw the ritual flame that you sent with him, to light his passage to the spirit world. To help him rest. You hid the ashes in a cologne bottle. I don't know if you were going to bury them later or what, but you never left hospital custody. We retrieved your things. Your child's ashes are buried in our family crypt, in an urn of rose-quartz, sealed next to the niche reserved for us. Your mother and I performed the proper rituals, ourselves."

Draco choked on all the air that couldn't exit his lungs fast enough. He'd held his breath, not realizing the pain collecting there. When he needed to breathe, he couldn't. The sounds that came from his throat, terrified Lucius, who jumped up to lift him from the pillow. He pulled him forward and smacked him on his back.

Draco twisted away, but Lucius held on. "Don't you dare hate me now! Don't you dare let that be the straw that kills you. We may not have given you permission, but we did you the courtesy of keeping your secrets. We gave you the respect of silence. All right, maybe we should've talked about it at least once. But your mother and I were determined to usher you right past that hell, to the life you deserve. Why throw that in everyone's faces? It was best to proceed with our plans. We didn't know about the implant until today."  
It took a while for Draco to regain his composure. He had to let it all wash over him. The whole time, he was worried about making so much noise that Harry would charge in. At one point, he and Lucius heard the door open, saw Harry's head peer around, and linger long enough to assess that Draco didn't need rescuing. He backed out quietly.

Five years of running and hiding in fear, not only from his father finding out, but from the sound of those newborn cries, rolled off of his shoulders. He listened. They were faint. They could come back full force. Emotionally, he picked himself up off the floor. He felt what it cost him, to have fought for so long against so many secrets.

"Please come to the ceremony. I need you to cooperate. Even though he didn't live, all that magic invested in my body, had to go somewhere. He's alive, in his world. And he's been crying and screaming at me since I left him alone. The device stopped that. And now that it's out, I hear how I failed him night and day. I would've gotten out of that psych ward sooner, if I wasn't hearing him. Mr. Severus has a plan, and I want to try it. If Harry can help me, and he already has, I want to try to be the best husband I can be for him."

Lucius pulled Draco into his arms. His adult son went willingly.

"I'll do my part, Draco."


	16. Introductions

In the entertainment room, Lily got everyone's attention by taking a deep breath, bringing her hands together very loudly, and jumping in.

"Okay everyone. It's very late and I know you're all exhausted and you just want to go home."

Dudley turned off the music. Relatives put down their drinks. Some of them had fallen asleep and needed prodding to hear her next words. Petunia had already started helping the maids collect various cups and glasses. She focused on disposable things that she could brush into a trash bag. It made her feel helpful. James and his friends entered from a side door. He was there to support Lily, whether she was angry with him at the moment or not. Hermione, Ron, and Blaise snuck cookies off a platter and ate them quietly, regretting missing dinner in order to snoop around listening to hushed conversations about Harry and Draco.

Lily continued. "That's about to happen. We hope. We've managed to bring in a very ingenious wizard. Some of you will remember my friend, Severus Snape."

Murmurs circulated the room.

"He's trying to help us. As it turns out, we're going to need your help. As you know, Harry's magic acted involuntarily. It knows things we don't. It's family magic, and you're all his family. I'm told that we need to have a special event. A ceremony. I don't know what it entails, but it's fitting that you're all still here, because we're going to ask that you contribute your love for us, and your magic."

She waited to see if this was sinking in. James gave her a nod. She was doing fine.

"You see, his husband isn't well. We didn't mean to keep that from you, but we thought it best to try to let them work through it. This is where we're at. It's all quite personal, so forgive me if I don't divulge any details. Even I don't know everything that's going on. The good news is, you will get to meet Draco. He's recovered from that thing with the ceiling. He's awake and doing well. He's a lovely young man, with a lot on his plate, and my son adores him. We don't care that the start of their marriage isn't perfect. We only want to help them through this difficult time. So we're asking you to join us in supporting them. Naturally, those of you who want nothing to do with this, you can amuse yourselves in some other room. But we're going to use this one for the ceremony. We ask that you clear out for now. Spread around the house. Have tea, watch some old movies, whatever it takes. Just be ready to lend your magic to the boys when we call you back here. Thank you."

Emerald clapped before realizing that it wasn't appropriate. Lily let James put his arms around her, and accepted the comforting touches and gestures of others as they filed past her out of the room. She could be heard repeating that she didn't know what was in store, and that she was sorry she couldn't tell them more. Emerald hung back, seeing how long she could go unnoticed, before her dads made her leave.

When everyone had gone, one of the sliding wall panels opened up, and Harry stepped out. Behind him, Lucius and Narcissa followed.

"Harry!"

He looked embarrassed at resorting to such tactics, but he wasn't about to apologize. "That was beautiful, Mom. Thank you. I'd be answering questions all night if I hung around everyone."

James agreed. "We understand. Take some time for yourself. Is Draco still doing okay?" He directed the question at Lucius, who stiffly allowed Harry to answer.

"Yeah, as far as I can tell. But I need to talk to you in private. We all need to talk before the ceremony."

Narcissa straightened her dress and smoothed some stray hairs that had escaped during, what her expression said, was a sojourn through the interior walls of the house. "We want what's best for Draco. And that involves a difficult conversation."

"Sure, anything."

They were interrupted by a burst of enthusiasm. "Oh. My. God! There he is. Oh, Sev, he's beautiful."

Elan sounded joyous and tearful at the same time when he entered the room with Severus.

"Here we go." Sirius backed up, taking Remus with him. When Severus walked by, he smirked, "Severus Strieber."

Elan swept in, his hair flowing. He deposited himself in front of Harry with such a break in momentum, that Harry also took a step back. Lucius looked appalled and pulled Narcissa to his side.

Elan brought his hands above Harry's chest, stopping himself from touching his face. "I know my energy is expansive, invasive, and can possibly be mistaken for rude. But young man, I mean you no harm. Since the day Sev told me about you, I have tuned into your frequency and relished all that I've found there. You are love on feet, so I know that you'll forgive my forwardness. Let me just say that it is an honor."

"That's sufficient, Elan."

Harry looked from Elan to Severus, who grimaced. "And you are?"

Lily intervened. "This is Elan Strieber, Harry. Severus's assistant." She wanted to kick herself as soon as she'd said it. "He's going to help set up the ceremony."

Elan took his hand. "Severus's fiancé, actually. You are so handsome. Just like him."

"Um, thank you?"

James rolled his eyes.

"You both have the same shade of hair."

Severus put his hand on Elan's shoulder, where it was promptly shrugged off. "Did you know that the non-color, black, has a special place in the harmonics of the Universe? The Monks of Eldorado say that even light is created from it. Every color corresponds to sound and vibration. Frequencies. Just to see and appreciate another person or object, means that our brains are receiving tones and translating them into what we perceive. You and he, are emitting the same frequency. The same tone. I find that truly engaging. I may sound eccentric and crazy, but remember that when you're looking at your husband and appreciating his colors. He's singing a song just for your eyes, that only you can hear."

Harry didn't know how to respond, but he'd accidentally listened and now he couldn't be rude about it.

Elan's delight danced in his expression. "Sev's mother had green eyes, too."

James couldn't take another second. "Okay, that's enough. We get it."

Just as quickly as he'd swept up to Harry, Elan turned to Narcissa. "That coat! That gorgeous coat. You must be Mrs. Malfoy. Only a mother-in-law can pull off such imperial tastes."

Narcissa was still wearing the pale blue dress coat she'd arrived in two days ago. She'd kept it immaculate and put it on every morning. For some reason, Lily assumed, posh people used their clothes like armor and suited up as if they were going into battle. Severus still hadn't removed his cloak.

Narcissa looked uncomfortable, but extended her hand. Elan took it in both of his.

"Is that a real Jamyre Allen? The muggle designer? Oh, I do hope we get along. Maybe you'll let me try it on. Sev hates extravagant purchases, but sometimes they're just necessary."

He lifted his face to Lucius. "And you must be Draco's father. Not. Too. Shabby. You put a smile on this ensemble, and Sev might actually have some competition."

When Lucius's stare went hostile, Elan wrinkled his nose and held his hand out. "Just kidding." His ring twinkled in their faces. "I'm so looking forward to being a house-husband. I'm already planning a party with your invitations stamped in gold. You simply must attend. I cannot make enough wizard friends and Sev need not let so much come between him and you marvelous people."

"Elan."

He ignored Severus's attempt to reign him in, and found the next pair of wide eyes. "And who might this vivacious young thing be?"

Everyone looked at Emerald, who was eating one of the cookies she'd stuffed in her pocket. She'd been seriously thinking about sneaking into the panel that Harry had just come from. Now she mumbled, "Me?" as crumbs slipped out of her mouth.

Sirius rushed forward. "Oh no you don't. She's off limits."

Remus cut him off, leaping in front of him. "That lovely child, is our daughter." He displayed as much eloquence in his subtle bow, as Severus ever had. "Emerald."

Elan's heart melted at her name. He looked at her. "Your father's jewel."

She blushed. "You think I'm vivacious?"

"Most certainly. I read people. Your sensual energy dominates this room."

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." Sirius came from behind Remus. "I have to scream. He's too bloody much."

"It's true," Elan told him. "She may be all ponytails now, but I see the blueprints for what she's becoming."

He turned back to her. "You hide it well. I've got the sight, I have to use it. You've heard of 'animal magnetism?' He tapped her collar bone. You're a beast."

Sirius put his hands on his hips. "That's not exactly something I want to hear."

Remus pursed his lips and kept his thoughts to himself.

They could practically see a new crush come to life in Emerald's eyes. She bounced on the balls of her feet. "I can take you around and introduce you to everyone. If you haven't met Draco, my cousin Dudley found a video file that tells all about him. He's a celebrity!"

"Oh, I would love that. I love celebrities!"

Sirius walked up to Severus. "Do you think you could just maybe, I don't know, handle your business?" He gestured to Elan, who held his head even higher.

Severus did not give him the satisfaction of taking issue. He told Elan, "Come. We have work to do. The sun will be up in four hours. We must have this over with by then." He walked out in a dervish of wind that reminded them how serious the evening was.

Sirius called after him, bowing exaggeratedly. "Mr. Strieber."

Elan patted Emerald on the shoulder, excused himself, and ran to catch up. Emerald followed.

Sirius tried to stop her, but Remus held his arm. "We need her occupied. He's harmless."

"He's a side show!"

"Which none of us can do anything about at the moment." Remus folded his arms. "I for one, am happy for Severus. If he can't express that kind of exuberant passion, it says a lot that he's allowed someone in his life who can."

"Don't make me puke. James, you gonna take this? The bloke's insinuated that Harry's not your son. I mean, yeah, Harry looks likes Snape more than he looks like you. We've known that for years, but so what? That same hair, that same complexion, and really powerful magic for a kid his age. We could never put our finger on it. You can't do half the shit Harry does. But so what! I mean, he's got your glasses. That counts for something. You've been the best dad I've ever know, apart from Remus and myself. Don't let that male version of Lily get away with turning your household into a shrine for blowing smoke up everyone's asses."

James frowned. "Are you still drunk?"

"I can't be expected to listen to Sir Lilykins Strieber-Snape, without alcohol. The fairy godmother of bullshit."

Lily huffed. "I don't act like that."

Lucius and Narcissa remained silent and observing. Only the corner of Narcissa's mouth indicated that she might've been slightly amused.


	17. A Meeting

An hour later, no one was laughing. All the parents were seated in the Potter's small library, joined by Harry and Elan.

Lily's hands trembled as she held them in front of her face like a steeple. She blinked back her tears and looked at James. He hadn't digested the news any better. He hid the emotion that surged into his eyes better than she. His pain manifested as indigestion, not tears. Right now, he looked like he needed a bottle of antacid. Now was not the time to give into hysterics.

Harry waited to see if his parents were going to be okay. Severus had been the one to tell them about Draco. He provided a summary that left out all the guess work and relayed the facts, with just enough pause, to be considered compassionate.

Lily couldn't shake it. She didn't want to. She wanted to be in that past room with Draco and protect him from those events that set up the next five years of his life.

So he'd already had a child. In the most unfortunate way than any of them could've imagined. They were given time to process that. What now?

Lily and James silently asked themselves this question. The Malfoys sat across from them, awaiting judgment, according to their mournful faces. Severus held the floor and waited to see who would recover first, so that he could get on with his findings. Elan sat at another table and maintained impressive containment over himself. This was business, so he let Severus take control.

Lily shuddered. Narcissa pulled a tissue from her coat and slid it to her. She took it.

"Thank you." She sniffed. "That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard. Poor Draco."

James decided to get it out of the way. "I personally, am not going to hold any of this against Draco. But my son has been lied to. Harry, do you still want to be married to him?"

"More than ever."

James didn't seem pleased, but left off of his questioning. The Malfoys had already contributed their side of the story. No one felt any better.

He looked up at Severus. "I still don't understand how the ceremony is supposed to help Draco. Are we just laying the infant to rest, or what?"

"We will be providing a platform for Draco to release his hold on the child, and therefore, his guilt. We will walk him through the symbols of his subconscious mind. The entire event represents letting go of the shame and grief surrounding his actions towards the child. When he truly lets that go, he will not be haunted by those cries. He and Harry can get on with their marriage."

"And this will affect the actual contract that Lucius put into place before Draco was born?"

"It will."

"He'll still be able to have children?"

"That's what we hope to negotiate."

James looked at Lucius. "You're going to resurrect those agreements? Summon those spirits?"

"They are my ancestors. They will hear me."

"Sounds dark. I don't like it."

"I'm merely on speaking terms with those who have come before me. It's where we all get our magic. Even you."

"But I didn't have to make deals with my ancestors in order to get a healthy child. I didn't have to promise his life for his magic."

"Your wife didn't endure two miscarriages. If you loved her, you would've done anything to put an end to her suffering."

Everyone looked at Narcissa, who kept her eyes on the table.

"We prayed to a few select individuals. Non-human. Non-physical. We made promises. We got results. Now that Draco can no longer live up to those stipulations, we want to give him a better deal."

"Didn't his child's death void the contract? Wasn't he given to you, to have a kid himself?"

Before Lucius could answer, Severus did it for him. "That's what the ceremony hopes to rectify. Draco's guilt and the stipulation that he is to bear a child, are two sides of the same coin."

"If he broke the agreement, how come he's not dead?"

"James!" Lily scolded. The question sounded heartless to everyone, but it made too much sense not to be asked.

"I don't know," Lucius admitted. "These are not, perhaps, murderous, evil spirits we're dealing with. They were approached in love and respect. They gave in that same vein. It's not as if they deposited the perfect child into our home. They simply cleared away the medical issues preventing my wife from carrying to term. I don't think the ghost mafia will be turning up to break our knee caps just because Draco can't pay the exorbitant price I promised, any time soon."

James sat back, feeling like an idiot.

"James has a point." Severus told them. "The child's death, is where all the magic hinges. The interpretation of that death. Draco's magic is waiting on him to make up his mind about what took place. Did his actions violate the contract? Or did he find a loophole? That's what's damming everything up for him. He can't live properly and he can't move on. The ceremony will allow him to reinterpret the tragedy. It's his lifeforce. His magic. There's so much of it tied to his ability to conceive and retain his masculine form. He has the ability to shape it. He had no say as a child, but he can do so now.

"If he thinks he's killed his child ruthlessly, the magic will result on that side of the fence. If he can see that it was an unintentional error, his magic cannot fault him. It must release him. In essence, he is the one and only god judging himself. My task is to provide a structure that easily guides him through his own sentencing, to a lesser punishment, or non at all, if he allows it. Until he awards himself that mercy, he will suffer this hell of his own making. He will hear that child's cry until it drives him mad."

He let that sink in.

"If some external judge wanted him dead, he would've died with the infant five years ago. I believe he's alive to live the life he wants, on his terms now. If only his grief will let him."

Narcissa spoke up. "How do yo know how to guide him? How do you know what he needs?"

He regarded her without answering, exchanging glances with Elan.

"My assistant… Mr. Strieber, is clairvoyant. There is indeed a child spirit around your son, but he's the one keeping it there. And not just the child, but an entire committee of judges dictating his every move. Gods, if you will. Guides. Ancestors. His version of the forces that govern his life. All of us have them. They're just our strongest beliefs, personified. They look like people, but they control his happiness. They control his entire world."

Narcissa could not hide her discomfort with such ideas.

"I also conducted some tests that allowed me to step into Draco's magic. The dragon is a portal. A patronis that leads to his center. His personal gods live at his center. Everything he loves lives there. And everything he fears, lives there. I incited the dragon's fire and found myself inside. I saw what was needed. I saw the child he loves so much. That fire spat me back out, not in the entertainment room, but in this room, at the feet of my fiancé."

The all looked at Elan, then up at the dark spot on the ceiling.

"One may enter the portal, but where one exits, is determined by what holds them in this world the most. For Draco, that will be family. You two. If Harry follows, his family will be here to pull him out. That's how I saw what needs to be done. It came from Draco, himself. The eye of his magic."

This settled in different ways around the table. When no one could think of anything else to say, Harry broke the silence.

"How soon can we get started?"

"Now that all the parents are aware of Draco's past, as soon as possible."

Narcissa stretched her hand across the table. "We're not going to have to tell anyone else, are we? It's so personal."

She gave a fragile smile to Lily. "That sort of thing carries a stigma. He'll be judged his whole life."

Lily gripped her hand. "We don't have to tell anyone anything."

"I'm afraid you do," Severus corrected them.

"As family witnesses, they will provide the opportunity for Draco to unburden himself. His own belief system will not allow him to walk away freely. In his mind, he has to pay a price. He cannot be talked out of it. I've already spoken with him and Harry. They've agreed to leave their problems at the feet of their family. Don't worry, all anyone is going to know, is that he had a child out of wedlock, which did not survive. And now he needs to be free of that grief in order to continue with Harry. There will be some who can relate to similar experiences. Extended relatives and friends need not know the details that transpired. I promise you, no one in that room is going to treat the death of a child in any disgraceful manner. If anything, Draco and Harry will gain instant allies and support. Harry's magic has locked the way in and made sure that he is surrounded by the people he can trust."

She nodded. Her anxiety appeared to settle. "Then I'm ready."

Severus released them to prepare. When the room was empty, except for himself and Elan, they regarded each other silently.

"I sure hope this works," Severus cracked a wry smile.

Tension between them dropped significantly, and Elan used the moment for his own gain. He left his seat and maneuvered into Severus's arms, stealing a kiss. "It'll work. You never do anything involving others, unless you know it's going to work."

A second kiss, and Severus bent to invest himself a little deeper. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm sorry if I keep embarrassing you."

"I am not embarrassed to have you be yourself. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Thank you."

This last kiss went deeper than the two intended. Once taken, they could not stop the swell of that tidal wave, and had to ride it out until the energy washed clear of them.

From her hiding place, Emerald put her hand over her mouth to keep from squealing. She'd seen her dads kiss before, but not like that. She was a third party to their passion, and rode it with them, grateful for the gift of seeing something denied her. Somewhere in her teenage mind, a very old soul delighted in having its first orgasm in this life.


	18. Ceremony

At the appointed hour, Harry helped Draco from bed and ran his shower. He refused to wear the suit he'd arrived in. It was showy and irrelevant to what he was feeling now. He had no wish to shine in front of Harry's family, but to get through the next hour as easily as possible. He wanted to be a shadow on the wall, and didn't care if anyone spoke to him at all. He counted on them not to.

There was a point during the shower, when Harry waited outside the door. He listened to the spray. He imagined testing his luck, and joining Draco. Would that ruin everything? He didn't even want sex. He just thought it would be a nice intro to each others bodies and the intimacy they were trying to develop. Draco was weak and looked like he need the wall to stand up. He only wanted to be his support. And maybe test drive that beautiful head of white hair with a little shampoo. He knew he was channeling his inner sixteen year old girl, but hey, if you find yourself the owner of a brand new Masorati, why not take it for a spin? He was going to teach this guy to have fun again, if nothing else.

His jeans were too short for Draco, so a pair had to be borrowed from James, which were too big. They fastened them as tightly as possible with a belt and used a plain T-shirt to hide the way they bunched at his hips. He was thinner and lighter than two days ago, and wore his ordeal on the surface of his skin. Anyone looking at him, could tell that he wasn't all right, and Harry talked him into letting that be okay.

"Just let go. Of everything. For one hour." He kissed Draco's hand. "Trust our magic. Don't give a shit about anything. Don't fight it. I think that's what all of this is about. So you made a mistake. We don't know that it's not the most defining step of transformation, you'll ever take. You're going to make choices from here on out, that you wouldn't make if you hadn't gone through all that. So maybe it wasn't the mistake that we're so quick to judge. Just be willing to let everyone see the real you. Stop hiding. We've all done things we're not proud of. The shame is the real problem. They're just chains. Otherwise, life goes on."

Draco allowed himself to be presented before Harry's relatives under one condition. "Don't leave my side for any reason."

"You got it."

When called forth, the two entered and stood in the center of the room. Tables had been removed to make more space. Harry waved to three people in the rear, two blokes and a girl standing, who waved enthusiastically back. He pointed at Draco and mouthed the words, 'This is him!' He received three pairs of thumbs-up and an outburst of smiles and soft claps from his relatives.

Draco saw that even though the lights were up, lit candles stood in strategic position. Various spells were strewn about the carpet, in pebble runes and on paper. At first glance, the smoky gray carpet appeared to be scorched with a circular design, but closer inspection revealed an overlapping diagram of burnt carbon. Harry understood that it was a sigil collecting magic from everyone in the room and directing it to the intentions of the ceremony.

It appointed places for them to stand. The further it extended, it looked like a mandala with a very deliberate straight path leading to the front of the room.

Beside him, Draco summoned the courage to return the stares of those around him. When they saw the blue of his eyes, their relief flowed back to him. Some were smiling, simply unable to suppress momentous interpretations of this moment. He thought he saw pity on others' faces, and still empathetic grief behind those. There was his parents among them. There was that first doctor, whom Harry said had failed to see the device. Doctor Hayatt. There were so many people he didn't know. He didn't know why they were looking at him as if they knew him. Neither he nor Harry knew they'd all seen the documentaries.

He was too overwhelmed to care. Let any of them survive pushing a monstrous thing from their bodies after two days of bloated disfigurement. Let them survive the regret and loss for five years, and see how well they handled being the center of attention because of it. Screw them and their perfect, mistake-free decisions.

Not really, but he had to let himself vent his defensive instincts. Better out than in. He felt sick and wanted to turn back.

Something must've given him away because Harry grasped his hand and wouldn't let go. Severus made the announcements that let them know the ceremony had begun.

But before he spoke, he lifted his cloak away, revealing an outline of form and fitness, complimented by the cut of his dark suit. Behind him, Elan looked on with pride and bold appreciation. A coat of finer quality hugged Severus's waist and hips, adding a genteel quality to its length just above his calves. At his throat, an obsidian pin held the fashionable precursor of an ascot together. The white of his shirt peaked out strategically from all that black, advertising a priestly authority that made it clear he was the most appropriate person in the room for mediating between the spirit world and this one. To Elan, he was just sexy.

"This is Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy. Their marriage contract allows them to keep their names, for each house brings a legacy that will not compete with the other. Their magic is not only compatible, but symbiotic. They stand before you, in need of your blessings and your magic. Every one of you has agreed to give it by remaining here and bearing witness to the events of the next hour. You will all get to play an active part in their union."

A sense of purpose lifted like perfume throughout the room. Being filled with magic, every onlooker projected their opinions through their magic without meaning to. The sigil on the floor amplified it, and began pulsing with intermittent shades of blue light, in much the same manner as the ring Lily used to bring Severus through. Everyone looked down at their feet and gasped, for the carpet appeared to reflect an inverted reality. One not entirely clear, but took stronger form the more Severus spoke, and the more they all reacted.

"Draco comes to this family after tremendous hardship. Out of respect for his privacy, you are given to know only, that five years ago, he lost a child. Its existence is in direct violation of the marriage contract he holds with Harry, and his grief will not let their bond proceed without healing that darkness in his heart. We are here now, to help him put his grief to rest. Some of you will be called forth. Your magic aligns with his, in particular, in ways that will become apparent. Please step forward when I call you and I shall tell you where to stand, with the exception of Hazel Olivia Evans."

It took some of them a minute to realize he was speaking of Gamy. "Harry is your grandson and you are one of the oldest living authorities on your side of the family. This is your home. James Potter, who stands in as Head of House for his line, would you escort your mother-in-law to this chair? It represents the authority of her bloodline. You represent the authority over yours."

He asked James and Lily to stand directly behind Harry and Draco, and turned to the Malfoys.

"Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, let the full spectrum of your magical and biological heritage record that you release your son, Draco, from hearth, home, and obligations, to ally his magic with Harry. That relationship will be primary in their lives and take precedence over all others. If you are in full agreement, take your place to the left of the Potters."

Harry looked at Draco. It was as if Severus was giving them another shot at a wedding. He kinda liked it.

"Because of the special nature of Draco's loss, I ask now that every mother, not already assigned a spot, congregate to the front of the assembly. Make an inner circle around everyone. This includes anyone who may have lost a child, or would in some way function in that capacity, if circumstances had allowed you to do so. Worded in this manner because life is not black and white. Mothers are not always in the form that society acknowledges."

People shifted to let others organize around them. It was such an unusual request, that everyone waited to see who would present themselves. The women who showed up, were young and older. Two of them were pregnant, and Harry thought this was what Severus was implying. But Severus waited, eyeing the row of women, dissatisfied. Some of them twitched uncomfortably under his gaze.

He lifted his chin and spoke into the air, "Let me rephrase the request. Let all whose womb has held a child, step forward."

When no one else did, they all began looking at each other. Nervous laughter infected others.

"The circle is not complete. There's someone missing." He paused. "If you come forward, you will be able to help Draco in ways that no one else here could."

He obviously had someone in mind.

"Very well."

He left off just as Remus's foot crossed the mark that put him alongside the women. All eyes turned to Remus.

He held out his hands in defense. "I wasn't sure if you meant me."

"Who else on Earth would I mean?"

"I don't know everyone's business! If you'd only warned me, or better, just say, 'Remus, get up here.' You're the one being all cryptic about everything."

"I was giving you a choice of privacy!"

"Well, I'd love to stand in with these ladies." He turned to everyone. "For those of you who don't know, Emerald is my birth-daughter, and I am not ashamed of it." He gestured to her, standing by Sirius. She blushed and shifted from foot to foot.

"That wasn't always my policy, but I'm older and wiser, and certainly thrilled about it now."

When relieved laughter died down, Severus scowled. "Get. Back. In the circle."

The flow of the ceremony resumed. More guests were asked to stand in key places.

"I call to the front of the circle, Petunia Dursley and her son Dudley."

No one was more surprised than Petunia, who had resigned herself to the back of the group. Dudley found her and pulled her forward. "It's for Harry, Mum."

She protested all the way. When she got to the front, she told Severus, "I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not magic."

He informed her gently, "Those genes may be recessive in you, but you have more than you think. The primary source of magic this evening, will be love. Not only do you love him, but you are a mother, and Draco needs that wisdom to guide him to his decision. His magic will seek to know what you know."

This appeared to put her at ease. She stood a little straighter next to Dudley.

Beside Harry, Draco swayed. Harry took his arm and hoped things would go a little faster.

"Lastly, I call Emerald Lupin Black, to come stand between myself and the couple."

She grabbed her dad's arm and looked as though she'd just won a pageant. "Me?"

Remus twisted his head to Severus. "Her?"

"You have all been appointed roles. Hers will become evident. She is a guardian. And Draco will need a guardian. He is about to take a journey into his contract. Elan and I have determined that her abilities will prove most useful."

Sirius spoke up. "Not to bum everyone out or anything, I'm all for this, I really am. But what are we doing? This is all starting to sound a little like Dungeons and Dragons to me. I don't mind slaying dragons, but don't get my baby girl involved."

Severus grimaced. "The dragons are make-believe. And not one will be slain. If you can muster up a grain of patience, you'll see where this is headed and it'll be over within minutes."

Sirius merged back with the group.

"Now, you see on the floor, a sequence of symbols. Some of you have figured out that it is a two dimensional generator. It is collecting our magic and making it available for Draco's needs. He needs to get back to his power. I'm going to present him with a series of tasks. Each one will be a step closer to the magic that governs his dilemma. Harry will join him, but he cannot act on Draco's behalf. Each task will pull Draco forward into his own belief system. If you look down, you'll see names and symbols regarding your roles. Your posts plug you into his beliefs and challenges. We are indeed role-playing, but the outcome will affect his marriage contract, and the contract put into place before his birth."

Harry wasn't the only one squinting to understand the logic of it. He looked down. The symbols at his feet projected the word, 'Champion' in a disc around him. In Draco's circle, the symbols read, 'Mate.' Beneath Gamy's chair, 'Queen.' Behind him, his mother and father got 'Sun' and 'Builder.' Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were 'Warrior' and 'Goddess.'

He tried to figure out if Severus had assigned the labels, or if they came from Draco's subconscious mind.

"The more Draco advances down the path provided," He indicated the hologram, "the more he enters a realm of his own making, filled with things that are important to him. We will lose sight of him and Harry, as they enter the portal of Draco's patronis. The dragon."

Harry saw that the markings on the floor passed under the spot where he and Draco had fallen through the ceiling.

"The dragon outside, is a portal. This is why the couple was able to return to this room after being engulfed, as it were, by Draco's magic, in the form of the creature. Our generator stabilizes this end of the portal, using our collective magic. I expect Draco to enter and return. While he is engaged in the tasks, the generator will put us all on the same frequency, and allow us to tune into his experience. There are convenient conductors of imagery and sound along the walls, so those of you without magic, may be able to see what the rest of us sees, and follow along.

"If you've been given the label that one might find on a Tarot Card, here's why. You are Draco's and Harry's _community_, in direct balance to his _committee_. There is a committee within all of us, that witnesses our beliefs, thoughts, and actions. Through this committee, we negotiate our lives. Will we be happy or won't we? Do we deserve to have our every need met, or should we struggle a little, or a lot, to deserve comfort? Will we face the world on its terms, or ours? Will we feel guilty if we do this thing?

"If we can persuade the committee within us, we can walk free. I have seen Draco's. I provoked the dragon and entered his personal portal, myself. His committee wants to speak with him. He hears his child's cries continuously. Those cries are his committee, albeit taking the form of the thing that torments him the most. Draco will be facing his committee today. That is his destination. To get him there, he must follow my instructions. When he does, you, his community, will generate the magic he needs to follow through. Neither he nor Harry will be given a wand to deal with their challenges, for they must use the language of symbols to reach deep into the layers of his magic."

"Draco, please come forward."

He did.

"Don't let all these labels confuse you. You will be in control at all times. When you say stop, the generator will stop. If we've resolved nothing, your current struggles will remain. If you allow everything to play out, the contract improves."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"In essence, you're going to create a dream that we can all see. But it will seem quite real to you. On the level of symbols, it will be real and have distinct effects. I will send you in, to help you create a dialogue with your committee, and therefore the contract itself. Stand here. Harry, behind him. I'm going to show you a series of lights. They're actually more than that, but everyone here will see them as lights. You will look into each one and tell your community what you see."

Draco looked nervously from Severus, to everyone watching him.

"I will guide you forward with questions. The more you allow it, the deeper you will go into your magic. We may fade from your eyes. You will be left to make the best choices you can make, with what unfolds. Your emotions will become objective and personified. We will bear witness, because the generator, flowing to your portal, gives us a window into your private reality. Don't worry, we will only see what relates to the changes that you would like to make in the contract. Harry will be with you. I am sending Emerald as an escort. She has instincts that you will need."

Even though Draco was in front of him, Harry could feel him mumbling expletives under his breath. Who wouldn't? This was strange, even by wizard standards.

Draco felt stupid, like he was being asked to play make-believe. His hope took a hit, and he struggled to simply do as he was told.

Severus held up his wand and sent a small crystalline point of light to hover a foot in front of Draco's face. At its center, it burned white. Around the edges, it gave off diamond-like facets.

"I've taken this from your contract. Please tell us what you see."

Draco squinted, not wanting to hurt his eyes. He almost said, 'A white light,' but something pulled him closer. As he made out a face, recognition shocked him. A very handsome man, fifteen years his senior, with a Mediterranean complexion, a kind smile he'd inherited from his Greek mother, and a way of smoking and talking from his pillow in the dark, took Draco back to the moment he'd given his trust away. Kevin.

He was a tenured violinist who won Draco with his award-winning vibrato and a wink. He let Draco believe the attention was all for him. Anyone who could play that beautifully, couldn't be bad. He mistook the music for the man, and he needed someone's arms around him when he couldn't fight the loneliness anymore. As a teacher, Kevin had been so patient. So cautiously respectful. Did he choose wrong? Everything those strings pulled out of him, he gave the credit to this man, not realizing that he'd been the one generating that magic. Kevin was only the chess piece. The game, the movement, was entirely his. He understood that now. So what, if beauty existed in this man. Too many unpleasant things did as well. He couldn't ever let himself be fooled by beauty again. The price was too high. Yes, it makes everything feel wonderful. But when it's gone, then what are you going to do?

"Draco, tell your community what you see."  
"Kevin." He didn't have any problem saying it. "From my past."

"He represents a valuable time in your life. Have you had enough experience with him, and all that he connects you to"

"Yes." He meant it.

"Are you ready to move on?"

"Yes."

"Then step forward. That's over with."

He did, a little more invested in what was being asked of him.

The lights dimmed and the inverted designs on the floor brightened. Someone gasped.

"Don't be alarmed. That's intended to happen. Harry, come forward. Every time Draco takes a step, you take one too."

Harry looked at the back of Draco's head. He saw a bit of movement and wondered if he was shaking.

"I'm right here," he whispered.

Severus cast another light. The first one dissipated. "What do you see?"

Draco was almost afraid to look. Something told him to be brave, it can't hurt him. When the image presented itself, it wasn't as painful as it might've been. He saw himself laying in his old flat, in bed, from a viewpoint above his body. His long limbs were wrapped around his baby, which he'd bundled in an oversized shirt, a remnant gift from Kevin, ironically. How the memory rewrites itself. He'd sworn that it had been a blanket. He remembered the relief of feeling clean again. Clean sheets. His physical pain was nothing compared to the regret in his heart. But he didn't see a selfish teen. He saw someone doing their best to love. He suddenly respected the hell out of that person crying in the bed. He felt like a being from the future, watching his past self and wanting to tell him, it's going to be okay. 'You were so scared,' he whispered to himself. It made no sense to be that scared.

"What do you see?"

"Me, and my baby."

"Are you satisfied that you've had enough experience with this event?"

"Yes." He almost didn't say it. Something in him wanted to jump in that bed and put his arms around the both of them.

"Step forward."

The lights went completely down this time. The floor took on the appearance of a world they could fall through. It remained solid, but Draco had to test it beneath him to be sure. He could hear people around him doing the same.

Severus cast the last light.

"What do you see?"

This time, all the visual cues of the room disappeared. He was left looking at a cologne bottle. It held a few ounces of powdery contents, and his heart crumbled on the realization of what it was.

He barely heard his own voice. "My… his ashes."

This was the part, he'd been dreading. No one had the right to see him cry. He didn't have to, but he couldn't help it. He fucking hated being helpless in front of these strangers, but for a minute, his pain was too strong to fight.

He covered his face for only a moment. He used his anger to push it all back down. Something like a breeze, ruffled his hair. When he looked up, Severus was gone. The room was gone. He stood in the rotunda of the main hall of his conservatory, as if he were about to audition. Hazy shafts of sun fell across the shadows of an otherwise darkened hall. Only there were no walls. On either side of him, trees blotted out the sky and swayed to wind that blew around the interior of the space.

"This must be your dream," Harry said.

Draco turned, relieved to see him. "Are we really here?"

"I guess we have to act like it. It's your magic."

Behind Harry, Emerald's head went back, taking in her surroundings. Mouth open, her whole body turned as she made sense of the beautiful, but stale hall, and the forest surrounding it. "I feel like we're in Oz."

The boys gave her credit for referencing something well beyond her years.

They lingered awkwardly, without Severus to tell them what to do.

"So this is where you went to school, I take it?"

He shook his head. "No. Not really. We had a rotunda like this, but the place was really beautiful. Musicians went their to be inspired as well as to learn. This kinda feels like it, but there was no forest right outside our doors. I don't know what I'm expected to do. He said he'd tell me."

Emerald pointed, "Maybe you're supposed to go in there."

They looked. At the far end of the room, a long table emerged from shadows. The cloth covering it, and a picture of water, were as solid as if he were seeing them on his own kitchen table. Glasses, already filled, sat there, though they hadn't been a moment ago.

Draco swallowed. His dream was starting to fill in. What would he be asked to do? Harry sensed his uneasiness and drew closer to him. Emerald waited for instruction behind him.

They all saw the people appear. Nondescript silhouettes in the dim. At first. But a well-dressed arm slid into the light. The band around its wrist, was an expensive watch. A muggle brand that advertised its cost. That strong, tan hand, picked up the glass before it, lifted it to his mouth, which no one could see, then returned the glass. The man spoke.

"Draco Malfoy, you're next. Please come forward. The committee will hear you now."

The man's face emerged into the light that illuminated the table.

He and Harry looked at one another. Severus warned about the committee. But not him. No one had warned him, that his father, Lucius, was the head of it.


	19. Superstitions

**! Note:** There are horror elements in this chapter. I didn't tag or warn, because I didn't know they'd be there. Spontaneity is part of my process. You can skip it if you want to, but my inner writer says it must be here. For those who want to skip it, Draco and Harry fight Draco's worst fears. That's not exactly a spoiler, since the last chapter led up to it, and it's still full of surprises. Hope you make it to the other side. :-)

**REMINDER**: Lucius' ideas are not necessarily the beliefs of this writer. He's playing the role of a flawed person, and playing it well. This story is not intended to tell anyone what to believe or how to live. Don't feel threatened by fiction. Without villains, there can be no heroes. My job is to tell the best story I can, and I can't do that if I'm afraid of offending people.

* * *

"This is good, right? Your dad wants you to be free."

Draco shook his head. "No, this is not good. That's not my father. That's his conviction. The person who believes I should stick with the contract. The person who promised my life away."

"Okay, well, he looks reasonable. We'll just go straighten this out."

Draco didn't budge.

"You don't have to be afraid of him," Harry said. "This is just a dream and you're not a child anymore. Your father doesn't own you."

Behind them, Emerald leaned in apologetically. "My dad says, children aren't given to people. They're entrusted to them for safe-keeping. Like jewels."

She rushed her words, as if she could somehow fail at delivering them, then flushed from daring to intrude with her thoughts.

"Yeah, like that." Harry smiled politely, appreciating the third-party wisdom. He had no idea what Emerald was doing there, but he trusted Severus's judgment by now and wanted to make her feel included.

"Mr. Malfoy! Time is of the essence. Did you or did you not request negotiations today?"

Draco's heart did that thing, where it felt like a jellied mass extruding itself from inside out. That's exactly how he'd felt as a child, when faced with his father's displeasure. Suddenly, a childhood obsession with sea cucumbers, reminded him of being repulsed and fascinated. They expel their guts, which was exactly what he'd ended up doing in that room that day. His guts lay on the floor. Had the little boy who'd turned in drawings and book reports, known that his fear of his father connected him to those creatures? And connected him to the day when he'd have to touch that thing that had just fallen out of his body?

"Draco." Harry shook him.

Just then, laughter and bare feet echoed around them. Something white and blurred ran past. It was so fast, Draco made an effort to adjust his vision.

Harry asked, "What was that?"

"Draco Malfoy!"

"You better go." Harry nudged him.

On jellied legs, Draco started forward. But something came up from his right side, approaching with timeless speed, and brushed so close to the front of his jeans, that he stopped to keep from running into it. Tiny feet carried it off to the other side of him.

His mind froze on the white garment that it wore. Its tiny head filled with swirls of pale hair. Its laughter bubbled up from non-verbal delight. Its face dashed by, too quickly to see. It was the size of a toddler and moved with ethereal abandon. Not a child learning to walk, but one gliding on effortlessness.

No one had to be told who the child was. The impossibility of it, rained over Draco and drenched him in hope. He turned, looking for it. It vanished as suddenly as it came.

"Draco, what the hell?"

"Did you see him? He's here. He's alive here. Did you see him?"

When Harry was slow to answer, he directed the question to Emerald, needing someone to say yes. She nodded eagerly.

That was all he needed. "Oh my god, where is he?"

In answer, the little boy appeared again, this time dashing by Harry and running forward in front of Draco. Too tiny to be real. Too animated to be sad. Too alive, to be anything else.

Before Harry could stop him, Draco took off after him.

"Draco!" He and Emerald followed.

The child had eclipsed all other intentions. Draco ran deeper into the room. But instead of meeting with the table and its occupants ahead, he ran into the narrow confines of a paved road and gate. The hall was gone, and a stretch of wooded road lay in its place. He looked back to make sure Harry was there. Sure enough, he and Emerald emerged from the lit hall behind them, out into the forest with him.

"Holy shit!" Harry said. The abrupt change conjured feelings of dread. Like being lost. Somewhere he shouldn't be. Somewhere he remembered. A grave yard. A curse. A really bad man who would've killed the world to get a drop of his blood.

"We shouldn't have gotten off the path."

"This is the path," Draco told him. He shouted out, "Hello! Where are you?"

Harry and Emerald knew who he meant.

"Listen, I don't think that's your kid."

"Who else could it be?" Draco searched around frantically.

"Your baby was much younger than that. We should watch out for tricks. This is literally your mind playing tricks on you. And now the committee's gone."  
"Screw the committee. He's the one who needs me."

Behind them, Emerald stared into the trees. They were a very dense evergreen, and she felt like she was being watched. The sky was a sunless dusk and evening breezes, so reminiscent of the ones she knew, gave her goose bumps. Again, her body took in all 360 degrees of her surroundings, adapting to it. She wondered what it would be like to be lost in someone else's mind. Apparently, just like being lost in the world. Only things changed rapidly. A flash of white caught her eye.

"There he is," she pointed.

Ahead at the gate, the little body stood still. He held a finger to his chin and grinned at them. His little gown blew in a wind that had nothing to do with physical weather.

"Oh my goodness," she swooned. "He's so sweet!"

Draco moved across the pavement hypnotically, afraid to move too fast. Afraid to scare him away.

"What's he wearing?"

"A christening gown." He didn't know how he knew, he just knew. It made no sense, but they were in pictures of his ancestors, so maybe muggle fashions had made their way into their traditions, even if their beliefs hadn't.

He approached cautiously. "Hi, sweetheart." The endearment rolled out of him effortlessly. It was easy to say, when he felt it. "It's me. You know me, right?"

As he neared, the child's face became more and more beatific. Chubby cheeks pinked, to be the center of his attention. Tiny teeth revealed themselves behind a gushing, open smile. And light emitted from wonderment, beheld in irises of heaven-blue. All of this turned up at Draco and reached out to him with dimpled, outstretched arms. The minute Draco reached back, the little boy shrieked delightedly and ran through the gate.

"Oh my god, Harry! He's playing with me. He's not sad at all."

Harry didn't know what to say. It didn't seem wise to encourage Draco to see only what he wanted to see. "We should go back to the committee. Let's get that over with."

Draco ignored him. He went up to the gate and knelt down. The child took a few steps back, like a timid puppy. He caught sight of pudgy feet and cute little toes. "You don't seem angry with me."

He reached to touch the gown, to see if he could. All that sweetness called him. "You're perfect."

His fingers missed their mark as the child backed out of his reach. The sense of loss, wafted through the gate like smoke. He leaned back and stood up. He took a better look at the gate. It was just an iron framework for an entrance. There were no sides. Clearings on either side, gave way to trees. At the top, the metal work read 'Cemetery.'

It hit him. He was in his own dream, after all. Instead of giving in to sadness, he smiled at his son. "I'm gonna love you, anyway. I want you to know that I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I had, and I'm sorry. If I could do it all over again, I'd keep you. I'd take you far away, and I'd raise you, myself. I've survived so much shit, there's nothing an infant can do to me. I know that now."

"Draco." Harry called him.

"I know this is a dream. A symbol. But whatever you're really like, please forgive me. You have a right to live. I just wasn't ready."

"Draco!"

He turned. He didn't have to ask what Harry was so alarmed about. Darkness came rolling from the sky behind them, as if the sun were setting phenomenally fast and pushing the atmosphere ahead of the night. Growls rode the wind. Ions charged the air. Leaves turned underside up, in a storm-like anticipation.

Emerald hugged herself and moved closer to Harry. "Why is it changing? What are those?"

Something hugged the corners of the sky, blended with the dark, and raced in camouflaged clouds, down to the earth. A storm of dirt and debris preceded it, causing Harry to throw his body over Draco's, in an attempt to shield him from a dervish of unidentifiable shadows. A second later, he thought of Emerald, and shouted for her. Over his shoulder, he saw her cover her head and squat. She screamed. He had to make a decision to leave Draco or go to her. He cursed. She was only sixteen, after all.

Pressing Draco to the gate, he told him, "I'll be right back." He was more worried about Draco trying to go through, than anything. He started towards Emerald, and saw her suddenly stand. She threw out her arms, her hands clamping the dark around them. Something hit her from behind. Pushed her, when she'd unfolded her body. She stumbled forward, but braced her footing. Her hands moved involuntarily with something that wanted to be free of them. She looked at what she held. Screamed, and let them go.

Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd seen winged things. Winged people. Humanoid. Misshapen. Instead of skin, they were covered with the kind of fuzzy pelt found on antlers. That was their skin. Slate gray, and blended with shadows. They were flying so fast overhead, they were only visible when stopped. In flight, and in great numbers, they looked like billowing black clouds against the night.

This wasn't supposed to be a hostile environment.

He grabbed Emerald and tried to push her down next to Draco. But the gate was gone. It sat meters away. Draco sprawled as if it had just gotten away from him. He took off after it. Harry ran too, grabbing Emerald. How was he supposed to keep up with both of them, and what was the point of all this shit?

"Draco! You're imagining these," He yelled. Those winged things struck his body. They were hitting him with an impact many times stronger than they looked capable of, they way Emerald had held them.

"What are these things?"

Emerald was having a hard time of it. They grasped her hair and jerked her head. Her body was pummeled so hard, Harry lost hold of her. Ahead, Draco stopped. He had to. There was no where else to go. The committee table emerged before him. People seated at it, looked like they were fastened in and riding it like some sort of passenger plane, from one destination to another. Lucius sat at the center.

He raised his hand, and the flying creatures let go of Harry and Emerald. They raced over Lucius's head and swarmed the gates. They clamored over each other. Now that they were no longer airborne, they resembled bats with spindly wings, until their little human heads turned to look back at Harry. They clutched and scrambled over each other, with hand-like appendages and human looking feet.

"Well, well. Caught trying to see the child, are we?" Lucius sounded bored rather than surprised.

"You should've thought of that before you left him here with us. That's the third time this week that you've attempted to see him. You know what that means. And now that you've removed the only thing tricking your body into still thinking he's with you, I'm afraid the punishment will be more severe."

Draco got to his feet. "Father?"

"Don't try to appease me now. I've done all I can to help you. You know the rules. You should, you've agreed to them."

"And don't be too easy on him," a new voice at the table spoke up. "He never even told me that I had a son. I could've helped them both."

To his father's left, Kevin lit a cigarette. He exhaled, regarding Draco with a tense stare and slouching body. He leaned, shifting his weight to the side of his chair's high back.

"Kevin!"

Harry looked from him to Draco. He took notice of whom else sat at the table. There was a woman who stood out. She could've represented his mother, but she was glowing angelically, and seemed undisturbed by anything around her. Something told Harry that she wasn't just a witch. She must've been a deity. He picked out the so-called gods from the humans. There was an actual blue person, right out of the pages of Hindu religion. Shiva. The male god of destruction and renewal. A pretty laid back version of Jesus, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Buddha a pin, waved at Harry.

Harry whispered, "Draco, this is just a dream. That's not Kevin, and that's not your father."

Kevin heard this. "Oh yeah?" He leaned forward, took a long drag, and blew it in Harry's direction. Something like a fireball, small as a bullet, hit Harry square in the forehead. "That's for the bruise with the implant. We didn't like that, shorty."

The fire-bullet pushed his head back. It was more than air and illusion. He staggered. A wave of pain dropped him to one knee.

Emerald looked at Kevin. "You jerk!"

"Serves him right. He thinks he can just walk into my empire, and start changing things around. Me and Draco don't need him solving our business for us. And missy, you are way out of your league. You need to find some dolls and make-believe your way back to your daddy, because you have no idea what could happen to you here."

Harry stood. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Lucius answered. "It means, Mr. Potter, that you have left the world of man-made laws and a system of magic so bland that everyone is on the same skill level. This is a private world, made of private preferences. We bow to no law, except those we make up ourselves, as we go along. And little girls should not be running around in a place like this, if they value their safety."

That was all the threat he needed to hear, before grabbing Emerald and telling her to stay behind him.

"Draco! These people are just you judging yourself. And they're horrible people."

Draco turned to him, "Which makes me a horrible person."

"Please don't start that again. You came to change the contract. Tell them."

He had forgotten that that was an option and a goal. He turned back to the table. He couldn't say that he recognized everyone there. Some faces were still in shadows.

"Harry, the real gods, the ones my father made the promises to, they're in the shadows. We can't see their faces. The ones we see, are minor gods. They don't have as much power."

Lucius chuckled. "I'm merely here in an administrative capacity. I don't want to see you punished anymore than anyone else. The ones back here, they're calling the shots." He pointed to the shadowed people sitting behind him. They were not there when the table first appeared, and they appeared to peek out at them as if in mid-conversation with one another.

"They were promised a child, and you broke that promise. Do you even know what a child is?"

Draco shook his head.

Harry hissed, "Yes you do!"

"I want them to tell me."

"It's magic. Their magic. The only way they have of setting foot on soil. Of swimming in the sea and running through a field. Nothing can be felt, tasted, or touched, without a body to translate those exquisite things into sensation. Without a child, we're everything and nothing all at once, yearning to make structures and experiences for ourselves. Haven't you ever wondered why their eyes are so bright? That's not innocence. That's eagerness to live all the possibilities within us. Even the ones you fear. We can't die, but you can, so you're 'fraidy cats. But you're also us, and you play the game, as we do.

"We have all the power in the world, can't even die, completely self-aware, and no where to go. We must come through you. Through your children. We must wind ourselves down into your human tissues. Then we can play. We can have adventures, we can run amok in any universe we want, all the while masquerading as upright and moral citizens, who are so afraid we're going to melt if someone touches us the wrong way.

"We are indestructible. We take turns killing each other because it's so much fun when the death of those bodies shoot us up, into a stratosphere of life that we denied ever existing when we were using them, it is a thrill ride like you've never seen. Oh, and don't get me started on sex. Your race has mastered guilt and shame so fine tuned, that the mere thought of having genitalia, makes us fight amongst ourselves to claim wombs and live chilling tales of forbidden pleasure.

"Children are our only escape from being everything and everyone, every second of a timeless existence. Children are the only way we can walk on those feats of engineering that you call, feet. We must have them. Before you were born, you were one of us. You said, 'let me go first. That way, I can guarantee you a child. Someone else may not do that. You said you'd prepare one for us. You said you'd give birth to it yourself. You said it was ours. And we could all enjoy flowing our magic through it. You made us dream. We dreamt such a lovely little body. Perfect for having a great life. That doesn't mean happy, but that does mean adventure. Our magic is the very definition of happy, so we sign up for roles that make us cry, for the entertainment value.

"We gave you the body at the appropriate time. Then you destroyed that body before anyone could use it. Of course, you have free will. But we were really fucking hurt by that. And because you know you deserve it, we're constantly reminding you what you did to us. That isn't some helpless, hungry soul, squalling for a mommy who will never come. That's us. The child at the gate? That's us. That's what you could've had, if you weren't so goddamn scared of who you are."

Harry clinched his fist. He wished he had something to throw. "Don't you dare talk to him like that! You have no idea what it's like to be human. Sometimes, that's almost nothing but fear. If he wasn't ready, he did that kid a fucking favor. You have no right to punish him for doing what he had to do."

The Lucius thing looked intrigued. "Oh look. Your champion is upset. I do so love a champion. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, his gods don't give a fuck what you have to say. Draco must speak up for himself."

"Draco, tell them. Tell them that once it became your life, you had to make choices for you, not for them. These are bullies, not gods, you have to defend yourself."

Draco looked lost. He'd listened to the Lucius-thing's words, just a little too much.

Kevin blew smoke through his nose. "A child is too valuable a promise, to be taken from us. If I'd known I was going to be a father, my whole life would've changed. I would've been a better man for you, Draco. I would've stood up to your father for you. I loved you that much. You know what it is to make a mistake, yet you hold me to standards you couldn't live up to, yourself. I may have stolen money, I may have accepted bribes and slept around, but I have never killed a baby, just because it was inconvenient."

Harry ran up to the table. "You've never been pregnant. You're just using his fears against him. A person as weak as you are, would've been out of there at the first mention of a kid. You're the one who didn't deserve it."

Kevin stood up. "You want to challenge me, little man? That's your first real boyfriend. That's cute. I get more ass a week, than you've seen your whole life. Let me tell ya something. If you're lucky enough to get a piece of that," he pointed at Draco, "You have me to thank for breaking him in for you. Remember that when you slide in there."

Harry jumped, pulling himself up on the table. It took too much effort and seconds lost, to take the swing he wanted. Kevin had time to kick him, shoving him backwards.

"Stop it!" Draco yelled. "I didn't come here to fight. Severus said that all I had to do, was change the contract and I don't know how. He said he'd guide me."

Harry saw him lower himself and put his head in his hands.

"Draco, they have to do what you tell them. They're you. Don't believe what their saying."

The Lucius thing checked his watch. "It's time for your punishment, Draco. Let's get it over with."

Harry had no idea what was happening, he appealed to the other people sitting at the table. "Doesn't anyone else have anything helpful to say? You're supposed to be divinity. One of you should love him enough to protect him."

He turned to the glowing woman who resembled Narcissa. "You, you're like a mother archetype. Tell them that Draco didn't mean any harm. You must know that he didn't mean to hurt his baby. Where's the good in his beliefs?"

She smiled with laughter behind it, and looked at him with tender pity. Beside her, a witch wearing a sheer black top with a sequined collar and hat, decided to help Harry out. "She doesn't talk to humans, and she doesn't feel their pain. Draco cut himself off from her help when he decided he'd rather be afraid of what people think, than happy. If he wants her help, and she could fix everything, he has to decide that he wants to be happy more than he wants to be "morally upstanding."

She included the air quotes. "The two are oil and water. It ain't his job to make the world happy. I personally want to be a kid again, to raise as much hell as I can. We can't support Draco, if he's just gonna suppress us for fear of hurting someone. That's like he's hurting us instead. He's making a choice to hurt us. We don't just have magic, we are magic. Not slaves, in a world where we have to please anyone. Until he gets that, he'll have to suffer."

Harry couldn't believe it. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone. What's wrong with making a few rules to keep that from happening? What's the kid got to do with it?"

She gave him a hateful look. "Magic is children. It's us! His rules cut off his magic. They cut off his baby. They cut off our help. We gave him the best magic we had, and he went back on his promise. Now shove off, this ain't your committee."

He backed away. Behind him, Draco wept into his hands. Harry rushed to him. "Draco, it's just a dream. They're saying things that you tell yourself deep inside every day, to punish yourself. They're your inner dialogue. You're not cut off from your magic. Your dragon thrives. Tell them. This is your life and you want out of that damn contract now."

Draco put his hands to his ears and slammed his face from side to side. At first, Harry thought it was an attempt to block him out, but then he saw that he was in so much pain, the corners of his eyes were rimmed in blood. He was crying blood.

Harry yelled at the Lucius thing. "What's wrong with him? What are you doing to him?"

"Ah, that is his own idea. Ingenious. At the moment, he is experiencing every moment of shame he has ever endured. He knows we're dreams and thoughts. That doesn't lessen the pain, and therefore doesn't make it any less real to the pressures in his brain. It's fitting. Mourning for the child by putting himself through this punishment, he will use up all of his magic by the time he's thirty. Then, what's left keeping his body alive, will diminish. And one night, it'll be a dream such as this, that finally bursts the artery currently leaking in his brain. He'll remember not to make promises so lightly in the future."

Harry grabbed Draco and shook. "Dammit, you're not this stupid. Why are you listening to dreams? To fake authorities? You're the one who gets to decide what things mean to you. Your baby, could just have easily been the most liberating decision you've ever made in your life. Draco, snap out of it. You fly dragons, for fuck sake. Nobody tells you how to feel about your own decisions. Nobody has that right, not one goddamn god or parent, or whatever the hell that alien-blue person is."

Draco had some weird ideas about reality, but who didn't? No one knew everything. Fuck, people barely knew anything.

He wasn't responding and Harry started to panic. "If you succumb to this, you'll never get to see your baby again. He was right there. They have him. Demand him back."

His eyes fluttered, focusing again. "They have my son?"

"They've always had him. He doesn't need you to feed him because he never became physical. You kept him in the dream, where he could always be perfect and unharmed. You made the right decision."

Draco blinked at him. It was a little disconcerting, because his eyes had to flush the blood away. Harry would've given anything for a wand to rinse them. "Doesn't anybody have some fucking magic to spare a cleansing charm in this place?"

"Harry, I can't see." When he wiped his eyes, blood smeared the whole of his face.

Off to the side, Emerald cried for him. She uncovered her face and looked at her hands. The same hands that had grabbed the flying creatures, involuntarily. They felt heavy with strength. Strength she wasn't using. Without asking anyone's permission, she ran to the table of Draco's gods and snatched the picture of water, half expecting it to vanish before she could get to him.

Lucius stood. "See here, young lady. Give that back." But he didn't cross the table. She gave the water to Harry, who poured it slowly over Draco's face, and into his hands.

He roused, splashing it into his eyes and rubbing them. "Hell, I thought I was blind. Where's all this blood coming from?"

"Shame." Harry and Emerald said it at the same time.

Harry said, "You're going to bleed it, every day of your life, until the end, if you don't demand a change in your agreements. Your committee is killing you."

He stared at them, squinting through dripping lashes. "Why do you two look so different?"

"So, you're not hurting anymore? There's no pressure in your head?"

"No. Harry, I see bands of light everywhere. Colors. Even the trees have magic. Auras. Your magic, it takes up all the space around you. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Harry and Emerald looked at each other.

"And you," Draco said to her. "What happened to you? You're so big."

Suspicions had Harry sniffing the picture of water. "Oh my god." He turned it up, gulping, and handed it to Emerald. "Drink. It's their water. Food of the gods. Ambrosia. In Draco's mind, it sustains their magic. His head is filled with so much mythology, it's all running together. We're not talking to anything real. We're talking to his superstitions. His fears."

He shoved it at her and encouraged her to hurry. But none of the committee made any move to stop them. Most of them merely sat looking annoyed. Only the beautiful deity clapped silently at them.

Harry's vision adjusted itself blearily. The liquid was more than water. He felt his cells singing to climb to some higher mode of operation. Draco's hair and eyes appeared to glow with untapped magic. Emerald's whole body was glowing. She stood, robust, and a foot taller than they knew her to be. She kept looking at her hands and saying, "I feel so strong."

They looked at the table with new eyes. Lucius wasn't smiling back. His lips thinned with fury. "Everything here is made of magic, and you have no right to taste mine. You threw your own away."

His face trembled. "You threw me away. Like garbage. I offered you love, and you rejected me. You hated me. Why do you come here now?"

Draco straightened. The energy behind his father's image, wasn't the same. And even as he watched, it began to let go of its form. Lucius pushed himself up on the table, but by the time he found his balance and stood, he was no longer the height of a grown man. He stood only two feet tall, with swirling hair and an ivory christening gown. His toddler hands came together, soundlessly grasping each other. His pout warned that he was not happy.

The sight tore a cry from Draco. He bent, mouth open, as if someone had punched his stomach. He reached out to the child with one hand, and covered the shocked gasps coming out of his mouth with the other. Harry caught him.

"That's not your son. That's your fear that he's angry with you."

After staring at Draco condemningly, the toddler jumped down. The leap would've hurt a normal child on such tiny feet and thin ankles. This one ran the length of the table and turned, vanishing behind it. Draco tore from Harry's arms and chased him. Harry and Emerald followed once again. But this time, the shadows that were seated behind the human speakers, rose up. They filled out into substantial bodies. Fur, teeth, and talons. But they didn't look like anything Harry had ever seen from the magical world. No eyes were visible. Oversized, human lips stretch to expose multiple rows of serated teeth. They were like a child's version of monsters he'd seen a thousand times. Exaggerated and made worse, with each movie and frightening experience. In fact, the more Harry looked back at them, the more they were sadly ineffective in appearance. He'd conquered his childhood fears by growing bored with muggle cinema and horror stories, so Draco's monsters were pitiful to him.

He told Emerald, "Here come the demons. Don't let them scare you, they're nothing."

But he had to admit, as they got closer, they brought fear with them, and that was their power. Their reputation. Evil didn't have to lift a finger, as long as people were scared.

Draco got to the gate, slamming into it, just as the child squeezed through. "Come back!"

The bat creatures scattered, screeching up into the air. They swarmed around him.

Once out of reach, the child stood still and simply stared at Draco, emanating blame.

Harry wasn't sure why they didn't just go around the gate. The demons left them no choice. He grabbed Draco and swung him around, trying to get him on the other side of the cemetery gate. An invisible jolt knocked Draco back six feet, into the monsters that were chasing them.

Harry watched, horrified, as those creatures lifted Draco's body and tossed him deeper into their fold. He had no wand. He had magic, but no idea how to use it against them. Draco's scream disappeared into the throng of muscular fur and teeth. Harry saw his shirt leave his body, and the last of his skin fade from sight.

That was enough. It scared him enough to make him forget that it wasn't real. Draco would be okay. He'd be waiting on him, when this all ended. When were they going to wake up? When were they going to be released from this trance?

Those demons might've been imaginary, but they were intimidating, and Harry couldn't say for sure what would've happened if they touched him. He stopped caring the minute he could no longer see Draco. He stopped trying to run. Maybe this was like the dragon. Maybe he had to go inside, to free him. He started forward, but found himself slammed into the gate.

Emerald had him by the shirt. She was now a solid two feet taller than before. Her body mass had thickened exponentially. Her homely sweater and embroidered jeans were gone, replaced by a brown, gauze-thin, shroud that could've been a gown, or could've been a cloak. It fluctuated between ephemeral and fur. Her hair whipped out of control, over wolf-shaped ears that had no fur, but held a canine mold. Her muscles were as veined as any body-builder's, and her grip hurt as bad as the bars that she pressed him against. She leaned over him, her breasts threatening to spill from their flimsy concealment, and wrenched the iron apart. When she had them far enough, she pushed him through them and turned and growled at Draco's worst fears.

From the ground, he saw her dive into them. Her thighs and calves made three of his, as she kicked her way to the center of their evil. They were supernatural creatures. So was she. Harry saw it. Her wolf form. Her genetic heritage from Remus. In this place, it was a part of her magic. She needed no wand to use it. The creatures she fought, were not going to die or even suffer harm, but they had to move when she pulled them off. And when she slammed them on the ground, they seemed reluctant to come at her again. Some, she ripped apart. She simply started tearing at them, to get to Draco, not caring what arm or head belonged to any of them. This wasn't a place where things had to stay dead, Harry knew, and they got up. But something about her, put them off, and she made her way to the center.

When she lifted Draco out, his coughs told Harry that he was still alive. His air had been cut off, smothered under the attack, and wounds lacerated him from head to toe. But he opened his eyes as Emerald carried him to Harry. Above them, the bat creatures revamped their attack. They used their bodies like bullets and the momentum of their swarm, to charge Emerald.

"We have to get out of here." He bent and kissed Draco's fevered head. "She can't fight every creature you throw at her, indefinitely."

He heard something like a whine, and looked up. The child's blue eyes and delicate beauty stood ahead of him. He gave Harry a leap of insight.

He tried to talk to it. "Your dad. He's hurt. Can you help him? This is your dad. He loves you and he didn't mean to hurt you."

It was worth a try. That kid didn't look like it was about to listen to anything. Harry couldn't help but be bothered by the idea that it was really some version of Lucius walking around in that little body. Instead of inching away, as it had been. It took a step closer.

Draco stirred in his arms, opened his eyes, and twisted out of them. It was as if the mere presence of the child woke him into action. Once he saw it, he paused. Harry knew what he was thinking. If he runs after it, he's never going to catch him.

"Stop chasing him, Draco. If he wants to be with you, he'll come to you. If not, you can let him go. He doesn't need you the way you think he does. You tried. The contract knows you tried."

Draco's body shook with the urge to chase what he wanted. But his resigned expression admitted that Harry was right. He turned pleading eyes on his child, and said, "Okay, okay. You're so perfect. I want you to know that. There was nothing ever wrong with you. I didn't reject you. I don't hate you. I was scared. You don't know what that's like, because you live here with so much magic. You come and go as you please. You don't have to fear anything. There, I'd have to restrict you. I'd have to be grown up, and punish you. I'd have to make you sad. Seeing doctors, getting shots, eating healthy and making you go to bed. I'd train you to feel helpless without meaning to. Lonely. If I don't know how to deal with those things, how can I give anything of value to you? I'd train you to hate me, to blame adults for what bothers you, then you'd know how to blame yourself, and you'd never be free again. I didn't want to subject you to that life, to my screw ups. To my depression. So I didn't let you through."

He thought about what he wanted to leave the child with. "If you must go, I hope you find rest. I hope you find a way back again, to parents who can give you the love you deserve. I wish I could hold you at least once. But I had my chance, and I accept that you don't want me touching you. But I do love you. In my own way. I do want you. I just want life to be great for you, and until I figure out how to make that happen, I don't want you setting one perfect toe in it. You're too good for my world. You're too wonderful. If you have to run from me, then take that with you. As your dad, that's what I would have you know, if I can never see you again. At least, I got to tell you."

The child's head tilted. Its brow puzzled over what it was seeing. Draco braced himself to endure the rejection that he once inflicted on his son. Instead, those pink feet turned its little body to face him. They teetered, like a living toddler, and found their balance. Draco's heart leapt to see his son walk to him. He waited, to make sure it was real. Real enough to act on. Those short, plump arms grabbed his leg, and the child hung on, placing his head against his knee. Draco's hand trembled upon touching his hair. Strands warmed beneath his palm, and the child looked up at him.

He fell into those eyes and bent to lift him at the same time. Harry took a step back, amazed.

Draco didn't make a sound, didn't yelp in delight, and didn't swing him around in some fairy tale reunion. He simply held him close and absorbed all of him that he could. He didn't ask if the baby scents he smelled, were real. Perfumed powders and plastic nappies. He simply let himself savor them. Hallucinations could come through any of the senses, he wasn't about to ruin the moment by testing it in any way. His son felt so good in his arms, he wanted to open his eyes and find the two of them at home, as if the last five years were nothing but a dream. If this was all parenthood consisted of, loving and being loved, he could do it. He could do it.

He was so thankful for the moment, the chance to speak his heart, that he lost all connection with Harry and Emerald. Beside him, Harry leaned in. "Draco, we need your dragon now. Call him."

Something in the strain of Harry's voice, opened his eyes. Behind him, Emerald tried to pull herself through the gate. She was being attacked by both demons and bat creatures. Every time she got close, they pulled her back. Even they couldn't seem to go around the gate. The cemetery was some sort of sanctuary from monsters, unless there were more inside. But the billow of his son's gown and the smile between his happy cheeks, said there was only peace inside the gate.

He looked to the horizon. This was his magic. The good, the ugly, the undefinable. He closed his eyes and summoned his dragon.

Their fight was over within minutes. Most of the creatures ran when they saw it. Those that tried to fight it, were disintegrated by green flames. Emerald made her way through and jumped on the dragon's back with them. They took off over the landscape of Draco's dreams and nightmares, leaving his committee behind.


	20. Consummation

They landed on a hillside that looked familiar to them both. As soon as they climbed off its back, the dragon left them.

"Well, there goes our ride." Harry said. "And we're no closer to being back."

Somewhere during their flight, Draco lost the ability to feel his son. By the time they landed, his arms were empty. Only the christening gown remained. He put his head on Harry's chest and let him comfort him. Emerald gave them some privacy. She went to see if she could find the dragon and explored the little hut. They all rested for a while, and tried to make sense of everything they'd experienced.

They sat in the sun. Draco still looked shaken, so Emerald turned to Harry. "Why aren't we out of this yet?"

He looked thoughtful. "The contract. He must've changed it. This place looks so familiar. We're still inside his magic, just in a safer part of it. It's so beautiful, I hope there's nothing bad here."

She watched Draco running his thumb over the gown. "Look at you. Your cuts are healing. Maybe that's why." She also noted that he was now wearing the most beautiful, sun-bright shirt she'd ever seen. It's the light, she told herself. It's so beautiful here, that shirt just soaks it up. Just like his hair. If she didn't know him, and she saw this, she'd know that he had to be magic.

She hesitated. "I'm sorry about your baby."

He winced, but smiled without looking at her. He said, "Thank you for your help with everything. Did you get hurt?"

"Nope." She flexed her muscles. "Not a scratch on me. Is this your magic or mine? I kinda want to keep it. I like being strong."

They noticed that she had the kind of fangs that stayed in her mouth. Cosmetically, she still looked human. If she hid her ears, she could fool most people. She'd have to use the cover story that she was an Amazonian body-builder. There was nothing human about her height, unless they counted medical anomalies.

Harry raked his hair. "Your dads are going to kill me if you don't turn back. You look amazing, by the way. What's Remus going to think when he sees how you transform?"

Draco looked serious at her. "He'll be very proud." It was evident to them that he was still thinking of his son, and loving at any cost.

She blushed. Her size made the girlish reaction seem all the more fantastic. "I just don't want to scare anyone."

"If you scare them, they shouldn't be in your life to begin with." Draco sounded certain. "Life is too short to go tiptoeing around other people. You have to be yourself. I never want to keep another secret ever again. That's what I've learned."

She asked shyly, "What about babies? Would you want one again?"

She seemed to know that her question might be insensitive, but the look in her face said she really wanted to know the answer. "You just looked so hurt when you realized he was gone. Like you thought you could keep him. If it was possible to get him back, would you? I mean, if your magic really was that magic?"

He needed a moment before answering. Harry too, waited.

"Right or wrong, if I could get him back, I'd keep him. I'd forgive myself for not being good enough, smart enough, responsible enough, whatever. And I'd selfishly keep him. So, would I want to have a baby in the next five minutes? No. Do I want one eventually, when I feel stronger…" He looked at Harry. "Yes."

Harry waited. There appeared to be more.

Draco told him, "It's okay if I've put you through so much, you don't feel the same way. And maybe when we get out of here, I'll lose my confidence. But I can still feel him against me, and let me tell you, that's all I want. To live to be good enough to get to have that back. He must be incredible with love and magic, if he can do that to me. Sour me. So maybe, if something that wonderful came from this body, then it can't be that bad. I can't be that bad."

"You wouldn't have to do it alone," Harry told him. He picked up Draco's hand and held it.  
"If I could give you that, I would."

These promises seemed to be enough for right then. They made them, while forgetting they were still in Draco's magic. And still negotiating the contract.

The dragon came bounding over the hill. Its wingspan alerted them of its arrival, blowing their hair and clothes, and everything around them.

"Here's our ride," Draco informed them.

Harry jumped. "Oh my god. No wonder we're not back. We can't ride this bloody thing back to the house. It's the fire, remember? That's the way through the portal."

Emerald didn't know what he was talking about, but Draco did. "I remember now."

Harry gathered with them to stand at an optimal distance from the beast. "Whenever you're ready, Draco."

Draco looked up at his patronis, and told it, "Take us back now. Negotiations are over."

The last thing they saw in that world, was a tunnel of green fire.

In the entertainment room, they crashed through the ceiling. It took a moment for the glow around them to fade away. Their families descended upon them, but Severus pushed them back.

"Give them a minute. It's a shock."

Harry and Draco landed awake this time, but Emerald had to be coaxed back to consciousness. Her size and change, startled everyone. They'd seen it all unfold in the holographic magic around them. They had stood in the midst of it all when she fought to rescue Draco. Her fathers waited for Severus to convince her to open her eyes. Their anxiety was three-parts anguish that she had to find out about her abilities this way, guilt over not being the ones to see it first, and amazement that she'd come through it so spectacularly.

Stroking her hair, Remus asked Severus, "Will she stay this way?"

The presiding wizard ran his wand down the length of her, shaking his head. "Her biological blueprints give her a choice. The coming year will be formative for her. If she spends most of it in human form, she'll only transform when she needs to. If her stress levels cause her to change frequently, she will retain this form eventually. It's not tied to the lunar cycle."

Sirius swallowed bitterly. "What do you think we should do for her?"

"Let her make the choice. Encourage her to retain her gifts as long as she can control them. Teach her to be discreet and to walk in both worlds if she so chooses. Leave the rest up to her and trust her. She's no longer just a human child, but a creature of preternatural instinct. She could survive the most stringent isolation and harsh conditions if she had to. She's going to want to test her strength. When that time comes, don't stop her. She'll always come home to you, when she's ran as far and as hard as she can run."

Remus appeared to digest this far better than Sirius, who looked grief-stricken. Remus gripped his shoulder. "Don't worry. She's still in there. We can handle this." He knew better than anyone.

Emerald's voice cracked as she sat up. "Dad, did you see me? I kicked ass."

This convinced Sirius to smile.

Behind them, the Potters and the Malfoys huddled around their sons. Harry and Draco sat up across from one another. Draco's injuries were gone. Neither could assure their parents well enough, that they were okay. Harry's eyes fell to the gown Draco was still clutching. Harry saw his distress, and helped him to his feet.

"We're fine, we're fine," he insisted. His relatives milled about him. Many of them made a point of grabbing him and Draco. A great aunt pushed past Narcissa and squeezed Draco to her bosom. "I don't care if you don't know me. You scared me to death! You're perfect for this family and I'm going to love you no matter how much you protest."

Her fleshy arms trapped him, and he did her the courtesy of not complaining or pulling away as she hugged him. Harry cringed, but was impressed with Draco's patience, as this opened the door to more of his relatives slapping Draco on the back and pulling him in.

Hermione, Ron, and Blaise, appeared at his side. Ron threw his arms around him, unashamedly.

"That was bloody brilliant. Every time you stood up for him, everyone felt a surge of his magic. It was our magic, but it all seemed to blend in and circulate through every body. You couldn't see what you guys were doing from this side, but you kept making it stronger and stronger and stronger. I'll never fucking doubt magic or myself again."

"I want a hug, Ron. You're hogging him," Hermione bounced on her toes. Tears stood in her eyes. "He's right, Harry. We had a clear view of where the magic was flowing. Every time one of you said or did anything, the contract took that into consideration. It's changed, drastically."

"Has it?"

"I can't read it, but Mr. Severus was talking to you the whole time, guiding and encouraging you. He let Draco make his own decisions. He'll tell you."

She released him to Blaise, who rocked Harry in his super long arms. "That was some epic love, my man. You're beautiful. If you made me any prouder, I'd be gay. Rainbows and unicorns for everybody."

Crushed into his shirt, having no choice but to endure his cologne, which wasn't that bad, Harry laughed. "We couldn't have gotten through that, without all this extra magic. I have to thank all of you for that."

Severus allowed the reunion to continue for a few more minutes, before announcing that everyone should return to their places.

"Negotiations are over, but the ceremony is not. Harry and Draco's magic has done what it set out to do. Let's look at the changes."

He used his wand to project the marriage contract into the air around him. It unfurled, every hidden compartment, sending gusts of fresh magic out at them. Some of the lines on the parchment were still burning with gold addendums. Blocks of text disappeared entirely. Some shifted from the back pages to the front. He waited until the magic appeared to write its modification. He turned and looked at Harry and Draco, eyeing them up and down, then turned back.

This made the couple exchange worrisome glances. Whispers erupted around them.

Harry couldn't stand it. "What's the verdict? Are we free of all this?"

"I will let the committee tell you."

He made an aggressive sweep of his arm, luring the magic running through the floor hologragh, down the path they had walked. He lifted it out of the floor and the contract was replaced with a celestial view of the stars. A window onto Draco's magic. That cosmic view, another symbol, leaked out into the room until they all felt like they were standing in the depths of space.  
A table appeared, lined with the members of Draco's committee. Not all of them looked the same. Kevin was gone completely, or he'd transformed into the glowing female deity who'd sat so silently before. She smiled her approval at Draco. Everyone felt their magic amplify tenfold. Whoever she was, she was more than an illusion.

In the center of the table, the Lucius thing lifted his long hair from his shoulders and let it fall in sheets about them. A rather arrogant display, but one designed to let Draco know that this was not his father. This was his own power and beauty, and authority, packaged in a way that he had to respect.

The real Lucius Malfoy, backed up, appalled to see how his son viewed him. He'd had no idea that he was that larger-than-life and omnipotent to Draco. He knew that he was handsome, by shallow standards, but he had no idea that he was that beautiful in anyone else's eyes. That was magic, for it wasn't the components of the looks. It was the way Draco's feelings interpreted them.

The fairy tales were right. There are greater realms that brush up against the one we know. And when sensed, they sparkle like diamonds of light caught in water spray. Fairy dust. Just watch a babbling brook the next time you see one. Stand in the sun and see the prism. People who are proud of hardships, don't get to see this kind of magic. They don't get to have that inheritance until they let go of the fight and trust their magic to render their battles unnecessary. Lucius gave up fighting the marriage right then and there. Draco's version of him, assured him that he would forever have a seat in his son's most important decisions. All of this came to him, and his own guilt slipped from his shoulders.

Cosmic-Lucius smiled into the room. "First, let me say congratulations to you both. We're glad to see you've made it back. You've addressed so much. Your masculinity is avenged. We're so glad that you dealt with that little hang up. It sucks when you promise to have a child, and then actually go on to live in a society that frowns upon males having children." He shrugged. "What are you going to do?"

Harry's mouth fell open. This guy wasn't the monster he'd faced.

"Yes, I know, you both thought you vanquished us in some epic war between Draco's ego and his subconscious magic. We hope you enjoyed our play."

Draco didn't know what to think, and it showed on his face.

"You can't kill us, we're your wisdom. We're eternal. Our forms will change when you need them to. Now that you are done judging yourself, we hope that you will enjoy your freedom. We never meant to make you cry. We only ever wanted you to know how much love you bring to the world. You are necessary, or you would not exist. We do not ask for payment, we have no need for it. But you wanted to give. So you gave a child, the greatest expression of magic that you could give. Then you got scared and changed your mind. That's all. Your wishes were always supported by us, no matter how they changed.

"If you couldn't change your mind, you'd be locked in a cage of your own making. You have free will and you are never punished for using it. We can't help it if you use it to touch hot flames. Our play was our way of helping you set down the flames that tormented you so. Flames that you insisted on holding, because of misguided information which insisted that you had to. Your right to be happy, could've spared you all of this, if you had believed in it. But that doesn't mean any mistake has been made. You understand now, why the greatest love that encompasses loving others, is really simply, to love yourself. Your son, who is born from your magic, is to thank for that. Though he never took one breath in your world, he lived his purpose to its fullest. It was merely to inspire you to love yourself."

He paused, and Draco seemed to swallow this information.

"Now, your terms are accepted. Your marriage is as unblemished as anyone elses, which is to say that it is off to a perfect start. You wanted to know if you could trust your husband. If he really cared about you. You didn't want to wait weeks and months to be heartbroken. You have experienced more with him, in the last two days, than many couples experience in a year. He has shown you everything he is made of. Everything that will annoy you. His strengths and weaknesses laid bare. You have your answer. Our play worked on so many levels. We love symbols."

He shuddered, giddily, savoring the idea. "Now, this shame business. That has got to stop. We've cleared most of it away. You won't die of an aneurysm because of it now, but you're still holding onto this business about your body. If you want to truly free yourself from that, and this is only a suggestion, we propose that you consider having another child. That learning module will advance you past your current one and erase all the erroneous notions you have regarding your body. It will also alleviate any residue of guilt. A child for a child. You need not compensate for your choice to be childless, but there are places within you that such a decision could soothe.

"Right now, the ability to soothe yourself and to relieve your guilt, is where your focus should be. Not work. Not weddings. Not fixing anything. Simply feeling better. It is this secret ingredient, this liquid trust as it were, that frees up your magic and causes your every decision to work itself out. In your current condition, you cannot bring a child through without it."

Draco looked at Harry, then back at Cosmic Lucius. "I can have my son back?"

"Under different conditions. The magic that wanted to be your human son, is still willing and available. It's always with you."

Struggle warred on Draco's face. Around him, relatives shared the weight of his delimma. He kept looking at Harry. Then, "I couldn't do that to Harry."

"Draco! Don't you dare use me as an excuse to keep yourself from happiness. If you want a kid, I'd sign up to share him with you. Right now. I knew you were right for me, the minute I saw you. I'm not scared of the responsibility of having a kid with you. I'm honored. And if you don't do it with me, I can tell that it's something you want so much, that you'll do it eventually. If I'm not a part of that, I'll fucking lose it. I don't want to see someone else enjoying what I could with you. Let me have that role in your life. You know me now. And I know, like you said, right or wrong, your gonna try to make up for what you did, by giving a child passage into this world. You want him back so strongly, you'd leave me out of the equation. Don't leave me out. Let me give you the one thing that will soothe you."

The entire room held its breath, poised over Draco's answer.

He swayed on his feet, the calculations of that prospect overwhelming him. He looked up. "How long do I have to decide?"

"You have the rest of your life to ask this of your magic. But for the purpose of amending your contract and removing guilt specific to your actions, you have one hour."  
Draco gasped, as did everyone in the room.

"Why one hour?"

"Till sunrise. The portals you have opened, will remain open until then. Excessive magic is roaming your environment freely at the moment. It will have to be reeled in. Under normal circumstances, it would hinder your daily life. Already, the occupants around you, find it difficult to leave. In the next hour, you will be able to shape this energy with your intentions. It will become the child you're asking for. After that, the terms of your contract are set. You always have the ability to go in and change them, but you will do so at the reordering of your life, and expenditure of much energy and resources. It can be easy and effortless. But you're not ready to let it be so.

"You will not always be physically surrounded by those who are amplifying your magic now. They must return to their lives. If you make the choice now, you will receive the maximum help they can give you and ensure a healthy birth. If you wait, you will allow natural conflicts to take place. Things can still turn out well, but you will add struggle to the equation. It's the nature of humans to do so. Even magical ones."

Draco was shaking. He looked down at the gown in his hands. "I want this."

He turned to Harry. "I want this, I'm sorry."

"Shhhh, don't be. I'm not going anywhere."

He turned back. "What do I do?"

Cosmic Lucius smiled. "Why, consummate your marriage, of course. And have fun doing so."

Embarrassed laughter slipped softly around the room.

Draco bore the stares and the knowledge that strangers were glued to his private life. He flushed, but held up next to Harry. "Okay," he agreed.

Cosmic Lucius smiled down at him. "It's done. I suggest treating this hour before sunrise as if it were the most important moments you'll ever have with your husband. You'll get plenty more 'most important moments,' but the one you're experiencing currently, right now, is what matters. Let me say that again because humans don't here it. Now, is what matters. There are never any traumas occurring directly to you in your 'now.' To know that one has happened, is to either be looking at the past or someone else's now-creation. And the trials that others are putting themselves through, are none of your business. Be kind, be compassionate, but don't insult someone by seeing them as helpless and incapable of creating the 'nows' they want. The greatest illusions of pain, escort people to their power, until they learn that power is free. Your son has shown you that.

"What causes the trauma you've been running from, is the habit of continuously putting your fears in your present moments, long before they ever become physical events. An hour from now, another 'now' will be the most important one. Be careful what you put in your 'now.' Or you'll keep re-living it over and over again. As you have been. Replay the best ones as much as you like. Discard the worst ones. Every second is a choice to look at love or to look at something that does not contain it. And that's what your magic becomes. Go now, and finalize your marriage."

The lights lifted. The table, and the backdrop of stars behind it, faded. Everyone blinked at the glare and rubbed their eyes, making sure they were all back in the same space and time. No one knew quite how to break the silence. No one wanted to. After what they'd heard, the seconds ticking away, were too critical to waste. Most of the guests had families of their own, and were well past the phase of apologizing for intimacy. They only looked askance out of respect for the boys, who were new to it all. They shuffled out of the way, making a path. Everyone seemed to know what was needed, and talking wasn't it.

Severus positioned himself in front of Harry and Draco. He hit them with a cleaning charm. The force of it pushed them back, and they looked down at their fresh clothing. He told them. "Don't talk. Follow me. Don't linger."

His expression was sharp with purpose. He moved like a blade, cutting a path through people who weren't moving fast enough. The boys had to choose between saying something to their parents or keeping up with him. Narcissa and Lily pushed them in the direction of Severus.

"Go, honey," Lily prodded her son. "Just go."

Her whisper was apprehensive. Even scared. Something might go wrong. An hour was a long time to leave anything to chance, with something of this magnitude. But too brief to let it go to waste. Everyone heard where she stood on the matter. Act now, think about the consequences later. Whatever they couldn't handle, she'd be there to fill in till they got the hang of it. Just don't let the sun come up without taking this next step.

James and Lucius didn't realize how much they were avoiding looking at each other, until they did. The formalities were over. Lucius smirked. He'd gotten his stipulations after all. James conceded. His grin discreet. Well played, you pompous blond idiot. He meant that affectionately.

Harry and Draco walked in a procession that would normally have led to a limousine. But theirs led upstairs. When they could, many of the guests ran ahead of them and lined the passage to their door, as if that were helpful and not creepy at all. Excitement in their eyes said that they couldn't help it. When does life and magic ever roll out a red carpet like this? Maybe everyday, but today, everyone was unusually aware of it.

Elan stood waiting. Excitement glistened in his eyes, and said only, "I've made some changes." He stepped aside.

Inside, antique white transformed the room. It wiped the slate clean and dominated all other color schemes. Everything shimmered with silk softness, including warm chocolate browns and amber sheers that draped their canopy bed in veils. At their feet, a new cream carpet elevated the freshness of the moment to airy lightness. Everything screamed clean, safe, trust. Elan somehow put magic in layers and details. Upholstery matched the bed duvet, with hand-sewn pearls and spells of comfort woven into the details of lace. Matching lamps, strung like miniature, diamond chandeliers, threw prism light into an ambiance of candlelit charm. There was a fireplace, made of white stone, where there had never been one before. An arrangement of mammoth candles created the illusion of hearth and home.

A million other details had to go unnoticed for now. The scent of sweet almonds and caramel, a technique Elan used to trick his clients into feeling good, without their knowing why. Music piped in from realms that only knew love, played so low that their egos could not complain about it being strange to them. A silver platter full of fanciful potions and pastries, all aphrodisiacs, in case they needed help. All of this went unnoticed, next to the herculean task of noticing each other, as they entered the room. The bed was the one thing they had to look at. It was an artwork of textures and space designed to tempt someone to touch it. To run their hands along perfect silk pleats and cool expanses of fabric that stretched out like white beach sands. It promised comfort. It promised that all worry would fade away, if one only placed his head on the pillow and gave into it.

The door closed behind them, and Harry looked at the window Draco had leapt from. New curtains, dripping wedding pearls, gave it magic. And the window was fixed. If Elan could use this kind of magic, then things were returning back to normal. If they were ever going to be normal again. It was still dark outside. Thank god. He didn't know how to rush something like this.

Draco looked at the bed like a man looking over a cliff.

Harry decided to let him have whatever inner monologue he needed, and started taking off his clothes. Draco's eyebrow went up, disturbed.

"Don't mind me. I'm going to slip into that bed and just wait on you to make a move. This is up to you. If it happens, great. If it doesn't happen, that means you're not as ready as you say you are. And that's okay."

He left his undershirt and shorts on, and pretended he wasn't embarrassed at the awkwardness of it all. He got in next to the fireplace. Sheets slipped around him like an airy breeze. It felt good to get off his feet and run them over the coolness. He arranged his pillows, and left Draco standing there weighing the magnitude of it all.

They waited like that, for as long as Harry could. Draco was frozen, and he didn't know what to say to make it easier.

"Don't force yourself. Keep your clothes on and lay on the covers with me."

This should've released him from his prison, but it didn't.

"Okay, that's okay. Tell me what you're thinking." Maybe he could talk Draco down from that ledge.

Draco looked as though he had to force the words out. "I don't want to screw this up. It feels weird. Everyone's waiting on us. Everyone expects…"

"Remember what he said about 'now,' Harry reminded him. Are you going to focus on what people are thinking, or are you going to focus on what you want? This isn't about anyone outside that door. This is about your happiness, and if you're not happy with it, it ain't happening."

"That's what I'm scared of. I haven't been with anyone in so long. I'm not even attractive without my charms."

"The hell you aren't! That's crazy talk and it's forbidden in our house. If I weren't trying to impress you, I'd be guilty of some very inappropriate things by now. You looked so hot sleeping, I could've molested you right then."

Draco looked stricken.

"Too much?"

"A little."

They held each other's stare until laughter crashed through Harry's awkward confession. "Sorry. I'm not creepy, but I am a man. We think like that."

"I know we do. It's just that I haven't been on this side of it in a long time. I'm getting used to the water, so to speak."

Evidently, he felt better enough, that he sat on the bed. "Thank you for taking me back."

"Uh, I never gave you up."

"But I left you. I jumped out the window."

"I was acting like a maniac. Thought I had to prove myself, even at the risk of upsetting. I thought that's what it took."

"I almost want you to lie to me. Tell me whatever it takes to get me in that bed. I can't do it by myself. My body, it remembers. It's scared."

"Then it's not time. I'm not going to lie to you. I love you and I signed up to cherish you for the rest of my life. We're married. I want you. I want a kid with you. I'm ready to go. If you need more time, we'll take the scenic route. I'll drive, you relax. We can have a kid later."

Draco glared. He snapped out of his indecision and started unfastening his pants. "Are you going to be so fucking nice forever? Time for a shower, would've been considerate. Cleaning charms don't relax the muscles. I'm doing this, Potter. But you don't have to act like I'm that fragile. I am, but don't throw it back in my face."

"Okay."

Draco stepped out of his pants as if his thighs were obscene, and used his shirt to hide as much skin from Harry as possible before tearing back the sheets and dashing in. "Just get it over with."

He lay back, closed his eyes and waited. "I know that's not romantic, but we can do that later. Right now, I need you to just make it happen because I can't. We must be down to forty minutes. I'm too nervous. I'm too unattractive. I-"

Harry's kiss stopped him. He broke like a wave against its gentleness. Oh no, not the tears. Not again. But it felt so good and told him what an idiot he was for being scared of his husband. For being angry with himself, and for getting everything wrong. The fear was always worse than the real thing.

Harry's kiss said, when would he ever learn that? Right now, he feared that nothing about himself was good enough to take what Harry wanted to give him. He'd behaved too badly. He'd caused too much trouble to Harry's whole family. But this man, slipping inside his mouth, assured him that not only was he good enough, he was everything. The world wasn't out there, outside their home. It was in here. Everything that mattered, could be tasted in the kiss he sucked from Draco. If there was something wrong, Harry's body didn't know it.

His weight felt delicious. This must be what swaddled infants feel like. Secure, pinned, protected in the arms of someone stronger. Draco felt the threat of his withdrawal, frowning at the air that took Harry's place. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to leave that velvet darkness, and told Harry, "More."

It helped. Harry was good at it. Thank god he knew what he was doing. He moved over Draco's body and carefully distributed his weight. Draco's breath lifted him and deposited him deeper in the slope of his chest. His heart pounded against Harry's. His midriff cushioned him, and movements above him pushed so much up through the striations of his core, extracting years of hidden emotions, and grinding them out of him. Harry felt good in all the right places.

He didn't startle, when he expected to, at what filled the gap between their bodies. It swelled, familiar, and non-threatening between their clothes. It was such a part something denied to Draco, that he used the ache it inspired to let Harry know he wanted more. He ground up as Harry ground down. Between them, all the right chemicals released. Tension faded. The world became a better place. When Harry's hands moved beneath his shirt, his breath caught, but he didn't protest. He only hoped they had enough time. "Hurry."

Gentle laughter. "We can't hurry this."

"Hurry, while it feels this good."

He was still scared he'd start thinking and couldn't stop. He'd find something to worry him. After five years of constant vigilance against this, there was bound to be alarms going off, lying to him about failing and falling for another man.

"I'm serious. Hurry. I think I'm going to have a panic attack if you don't."

Harry pulled away, looking down at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need you to be your annoying, pushy self. I'm too damaged to give you this incredible wedding night. That's not going to happen for a while. But I honest to god need you inside of me. Push me. Make me forget myself. While I'm ready. Take control. Before the insecurities take over. Please. I need you to. I've played it safe for so long. I don't want to be scared to let myself have this anymore. I'm telling you, I was never a saint in bed. Fuck me out of my mind. I give you permission. If I fight you, it's just nerves. Don't give me a chance to, and don't hold back."

"I can't help but think there are men in prison, who've heard something similar."

When Draco's eyes flew open, he hurried and kissed them closed again. "I didn't mean it. You have to stop me if it hurts. Promise me, okay?"

"We're losing time. We'll learn to please each other as we go. Foreplay can come later."

"Shhh… "

It took a lot more kisses to get Draco to shut up. Harry tricked him by adding pressure to the workover he steamrolled into Draco. He discarded all unnecessary layers between them, leaving their shirts, and made Draco think the plunge was going to come any moment. He used that time to make sure the other was thoroughly drenched in readiness. Shallow breath told him how much Draco was forgetting himself. Their touching erections, told him how willing he was. Every time he tried to touch that beautiful thing, rolling into his gut and driving him mad, Draco moved his hand away. He bided his time.

When they were both swollen to dangerous leakage levels, and drunk on the chemicals of kissing, he committed. Driving forward, he understood that the body beneath him had different capabilities and different needs. Tissue, squeezing around him, with just enough pinch to grip the tender skin of his cock, released its own natural oils and sterilizing enzymes. Draco's body was an ingenious work of art, as well as an intelligent machine. It pulled him in with welcome, even as different groups of muscles restricted his pace.

Draco's panting and moans stopped, interrupted long enough to make sure he survived what was filling him. He didn't protest, but he did tremble and grip Harry through the challenge of it. He had to be reminded to breathe. Once they were past the hard part, Harry plunged in earnest, and Draco had to be held to the sheets.

If this was a necessary thing, done only to get a child, then it was a bonus that it connected him with who he really was again. His climbing pleasure said that it was about much more than that. It was about giving himself permission to live again. To feel, running his emotions wide open, in the safety of a man's company. And not just any man. His husband. He held on, and met every thrust with as much appreciation as he could. He savored the strength that was almost too much for him. He forgot about the time, and their families. Harry drove him, flooring it, speeding them down a road without limits. He went, a hostage to velocity. When they crashed, they crashed together. The way it threw his body, he had to know what an orgasm really was. It was pleasure at its most violent. Even the mildest vanilla crests, were caused by eruptions deep inside the earth. His gut locked beneath Harry and didn't let go, until he opened his eyes to the sunrise.


	21. Epilogue: Rebirth II

**Four months later…**

Gamy's ballroom filled to maximum capacity. Not only was everyone there, from months before, who witnessed the day they were all trapped inside, but envious friends and relatives who had not been as fortunate, arrived to celebrate the day. The boys had to be talked into it. As far as Harry and Draco were concerned, they need not lift another finger to make up for lost wedding plans. Their mothers felt differently.

"Draco," Narcissa pleaded at the Potter's breakfast table, "You're my only child. I ask for this one thing that is precious to me."

Harry made a point of not looking at him. They all knew that wasn't true, the part about 'one thing.'

Lily smiled wistfully at them. "I have to admit, I feel the same way. You boys will be gone one day. You'll take the baby and go. At least give us the memories. The photos."

Their arms were twisted. But when it was all said and done, the idea of publicly celebrating his marriage, to people who hadn't been tricked into staying for it, did appeal to Harry. At four months pregnancy, Draco was more self-conscious about his body than ever. They agreed he wouldn't have to do public functions. One night with Harry's entire family privileged to their lovemaking, was quite enough. They were both still recovering from that. They were learning to look people in their eyes again and not feel they were being discussed when they entered a room. There could've been a dozen reasons why people got silent and went red, then started talking about the weather.

But when they were alone, Harry got his way. His kisses made sure of it.

"Okay," Draco gave in. "But I'm not ready to dance with every member of your family, so don't leave my side all night."

That was the anxiety talking. He looked as spectacular in his tuxedo, as the first day Harry laid eyes on him. Severus was right, he wasn't showing, and would probably end the term still able to shyly conceal it. Only Harry's family, and those closest to him, knew it was there. Once music and champagne started flowing, Draco's personal politics changed. He felt genuinely a part of everything going, and relaxed into conversation. He danced with Harry's friends, allowed people to touch his stomach, and played piano duets with Gamy on her antique upright.

At the highlight of the evening, Harry unveiled his gift to him. A one of a kind Bösendorfer, Imperial 290, with a black mirror finish. Beneath its many layers of lacquer, a dragon swam those dark depths. Green-blue scales glistened iridescently, emerging and disappearing deep inside the paint as if it were black water. Draco loved it.

He played for his new family. Classics and modern Kpop that only Emerald truly appreciated. She pulled Dudley onto the dance floor and showed him moves that had him cringing, but his laughter infected everyone around them. She looked like a sixteen year old girl again. It was anyone's guess when that would change.

Dudley wasn't the only one who was never going to be able to see her the same way again. Young wizards lined up to goof off with her. Sirius refused to let her out of his sight, until Remus demanded a dance. During their modern waltz, their gaze at one another grew so intense, that Blaise grabbed Hermione and pulled her, giggling, onto the floor. Ron refused to be outdone, and found the prettiest girl he could, to prove it.

Petunia, on the other hand, was smitten with her new wand. After the ceremony, she'd been so eager to get home to her husband, that Gamy's closets flew open with several old brooms that followed her throughout the house. Severus provided the explanation that they were eager to do her bidding, now that her magic had been triggered by the communal magic she'd shared with everyone who attended. Dudley too, could make small objects move, but his mother got wind of her abilities and ran with them. She insisted that Severus teach her some tricks, and spent Harry's banquet changing everyone's shoe color, to see which best went with their outfits.

Severus's and Elan's shared dance space, with Lucius and Narcissa, resulted in some friendly competition. But the evening ended with everyone getting what they came for, the sight of Harry and Draco still on the floor long after everyone else was stuffed and drunk. They looked at each other, and moved, as if they were the only ones in the room. It was at that point, that Lily turned to Narcissa and showed her how to do a hi-five.

**Eleven months later…**

Harry pulled into the gate of his home, admiring the asphalt repairs done since the night of the dragon. He was coming from shuttling a group of muggle business people back to their hotel. It had been a very successful meeting, and he couldn't wait to tell Draco and his father the good news. An American company wanted to buy his patent for his physical therapy bracelets. Draco was right, he could sell them on a larger scale. He had no interest in running a factory, but Draco said he didn't have to.

"You put up the start up costs or get investors. You let other people use their talents to run those things for you. All you have to do is invent, choose the most qualified to run your company, keep your eye on the accountants, and get out of everyone's way. I'll show you."

He entered through the back, waving at Gamy in her garden. In the kitchen, his head lifted to the sound of a piano, as he removed his jacket. That never got old, the sound of Draco enjoying his gift. He hurried downstairs to the old ballroom. After unveiling the piano, almost a year ago, it still sat in the same spot. Draco played it as often as he could. He was beginning to compose again, and itched for his own studio.

"Say the word," Harry had told him, "And we can start renovations."

"No. I have no need for a traditional studio. My hands are full with the baby, and I like it that way. I don't need anything competing with my time with her. My computer is fine for now."  
"Chrisaliss isn't going anywhere. You can work while she sleeps. She doesn't need you to hold her while she rests."

"She doesn't rest as often as you think she does. And when she's asleep, I have to sleep. She pretty much sets my schedule."

"Don't let that stop you from your studies."

"It doesn't stop me. It helps me. I now know what to do with myself every minute of the day."

"I wish you'd let me hire some help. A house elf might be nice."

"No elf is going to get to know my daughter better than I do. Not until she's five. If it's good enough for the Pope, it's good enough for me. And between your mom and mine, I'm lucky I have as much time with her as I do."

That conversation had ended with a peck on the cheek and a quickie on the floor beside the bassinet.

Now Harry followed a stream of notes. The melody grew fuller, pulling him along. As he approached the ballroom, he took off his shoes so that they wouldn't give him away. Draco's playing reached its climax and faded to a trickle of primary keys. He rounded the corner and saw him, sitting some distance away. He and the piano occupied a shaft of light. A single ray, that fell over the piano's sleek finish and cast elegant shadows on the floor. The dragon in the varnish, released a plume of gentle fire that never broke the surface. Beside his bench, the baby sat in her carrier, sucking on her hand.

The sight of her, excited him to no end. When she was born, she looked so much like Draco, that he couldn't really see any likeness to himself. And that was okay. He loved that she looked like him. Mr. Elan Strieber swore that one day she would have black hair, but her white tufts showed no sign of it yet. At six months, ten pounds healthier, he could see a little of himself in her. She turned her head when he spoke her name. She laughed when he jostled her belly. Her hands and feet went twitchy, when he bent down to her, and she struggled to coordinate her arms to reach out to him. That was heaven.

He was about to set foot into the room, when Draco's tempo changed, and the sweetest sound broke free from his mouth. The notes were high and sonorous, but he managed them nonetheless.

"The book of love is long and boring…  
And written very long ago…"

What struck Harry, wasn't just the fact that Draco was singing. It was how he sung to their daughter. She was a captive audience, never taking her eyes off of him, as he leaned as close to her as possible without taking his hands off the keys.

"It's full of charts and facts and figures…  
And instructions for dancing…"

Chrisaliss's toothless grin covered her face. She squirmed, feeling his love pour into her.

"But, I…  
I love it when you read to me…"

He hit notes that exploded Harry's heart. He bent them, in a way that Harry didn't know he was capable of.

Chrisaliss squealed. Her eyes pooled with emotional intelligence. Harry knew she was born with it. It wasn't something she'd learn or develop. It was already hers.

"And you…  
You can read me anything…"

His voice floated like a feather, to the end of the note, and evaporated in the stillness that followed.

If beauty was a bird, Harry had just ridden on its wings. He let the wall take all of his weight, and kept himself hidden. Draco pulled out his sheet notes and showed them to Chrisaliss. "All finished. You think anybody's going to want to hear this?"

He put it away, gathered his books in one hand, and picked up her carrier in the other.

"I thought I heard Harry's car. Let's go show Daddy what we did today."

* * *

End (64,000 words in 11 days! That's a novel, folks. And that's only half of the story!)

**Credit**: Song is, The Book of Love, as sung by Mario Spinetti (written by Peter Gabriel). Mario's version can be sampled on Amazon. I couldn't find a clip of it. I love it so much I bought it. He has other music on Youtube, his voice is unusual and spectacular. I wrote to him and he actually let me send him my books, though he's not a reader. It was his gift to me. Hope you check him out.

**Note:** I'm not sure where to put this. Some people might need it. I no longer explain how males can become pregnant in my writing (wore myself out with that, with Conception and my beloved Sonny). So here it is. Male pregnancy explained, the short version. This is just one way out of many. Sperm entering into the rectum causes the inner walls to release chemicals that react and result in the transformation of internal organs. The male grows a temporary environment suitable for gestating a child. His stomach does not generally protrude nearly as much as a female's would, because of the tilt of his pelvis. A male's tilts back. A female's tilts forward, pushing everything outward (Trademark, :-). Left to full term, his body will create an adjacent cavity (to the rectum) to push the child out with. However, the baby can usually be removed a little early, to lower safety/health risks to both parent and child.

Also, I never use lube between my guys. I like the idea of his body being intelligent enough to secrete antibacterial and slippery substances that are considered clean. This is magic and fantasy, after all.

Some of these ideas are staples that I will always use with my original characters as well as fanfiction. I came up with them between the years 2002 and 2006, so they're not stolen from fanfiction. (The self-secreting rectum IS partly from a Sentinel fic, that I've lost.) But feel free to use them if you want. Where would we be if we couldn't get inspired by the ideas of others? We all owe JK Rowling our deepest gratitude. I only mention this because I'm in love with the concepts and am proud that my imagination can find ways around traditional thinking. Also, someone said they "needed" an explanation. I no longer do.

**Future plans**: Finish Harry's Unbearable story, then focus on my books. I've used fanfiction to train myself to write small novels. I always seem to go for epics and am learning to be kinder to myself. Thanks to everyone for reading.


End file.
